


Firestarter

by molmcmahon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Dragons, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Master of Death Harry Potter, R plus L equals J, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: Rhaenys Targaryen survives the sack of King's Landing through Jaime's intervention and regaining the memories of a past life. Robert orders her to be taken to Winterfell and wed to Ned’s firstborn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either HP or GoT. They belong to JK Rowling and GRR Martin respectively.

Rhaenys Targaryen woke up to darkness, taking in shallow, shaky breaths as she recalled her previous moments. She remembered the bad man coming into her bedroom and loudly walking in, steel boots clanging on the stone floor. Then steel sliding against steel as a sword was drawn and then she woke up with a sword through her stomach. She was about to scream when she remembered what her mother had told her to do. 

Her lady mother had pushed her under the bed then had ran to her brother's room. Magic gathered around her as her emotions flew high and she glanced down at her chest to where the evil Lannister had pushed his sword in. Now there was nothing left except dried blood and dirt left from where the sword had gone through. Her innate magic had seen to healing her body, like it always did when she was hurt. It had always done so, even when she hadn't known about magic. Back when the Dursley's had not cared one whit about her. Back in her first life, as the Girl-Who-Lived. 

The only thing left on her was the gown that she had worn to sleep and even that had a hole torn through it. 

She frantically got up out from under of her bed and automatically whistled for her cat and Balerion scrambled out with her and followed her as she shuffled quietly to the door and opened it. She could hear the sound of steel twanging from the courtyard and flesh hitting flesh as the Lannisters slaughtered her family, the family she had been reborn in. 

She was about to go out and fight, the need to help still within her, when she realized that there was a minor flaw in her plan. She was still only three years old and had stubby legs and short arms. No one would take her seriously or even listen to her, especially since most of the men in the palace were not Targaryen bannermen. She remembered her mum, Elia, telling her of the war in their land. Of how Rhaegar, her father, had stolen another woman though she hadn't really understood what her mother was telling her at the time. Rhaenys hoped her father was alright. Rhaegar always made her laugh and tried to protect her and her brother from their grandfather. 

Rhaenys toddled through the hallway, with her cat Balerion behind her. She tried to keep quiet as she ran, her magic flowing around her. It was a bit wild, maybe because she didn’t have a wand yet or maybe because she needed to train it again. That made it all the more wild as a breeze flowed around her, a wind that hadn't been there a minute ago. 

She finally made it to the stairs that would take her down to the nursery, where her mother and her younger brother were. She ran, hearing Balerion's claws scrape the stone as the cat ran with her. She scooped up the kitten when she reached the door to the nursery and flinched when she heard a scream from within. Sounds of flesh hitting flesh came to her ears and she narrowed her eyes, a strand of her short dark hair flying into her eyes. She pushed it away before stepping into the doorway of her brother’s nursery. 

The door was open and she winced when she hesitantly stepped inside, her stomach roiling at the sight that met her. Her younger brother, Aegon, was dead on his bed. There was a hole through his chest and blood pouring out of it. Aegon's eyes were sightless in death as they stared up at the curtains of the nursery bed. Rhaenys almost hurled, her stomach rebelling, and she threw up the small meal she had had last night onto the floor. 

More sounds reached her ears as she looked out onto the balcony that jutted out from the nursery. Rhaenys cried out at the sight that met her eyes. Her mother was being raped by Ser Gregor Clegane. Her shout brought the Mountain's attention and he looked up, after bashing Elia Martell's head against the stone. The rising sun dawned down on the balcony, lighting up the city beyond the balcony for her sight. She could see fires throughout the city but they were small, separate. She could hear the sounds of fighting even from up here and it scared her. Whispers of worse battles flowed into her mind but she kept those away. 

“Girl, I thought Amory killed you,” Gregor muttered, standing up and drawing his sword. “That was the plan.” 

Rhaenys yelped and stared at her mother, eyes blinking back tears. Elia's eyes had gone sightless in death. Her magic roared through her, feeling like fire, before the stomping of the man's boots drew her attention back. She turned, still holding Balerion, and fled. She fled back through the nursery on wobbly legs and turned right as she ran up the stairs. Her mother had told her about an escape route through the castle that was somewhere around here. Balerion yowled and scratched her, startling her enough to drop him. He ran off and she took off after him. 

“Balerion!” 

Her shout drew the attention of a few Lannister soldiers and they did a comical double take. A little girl with dark hair running about in the castle, with blood on her shirt. She ran past them and ran right into Ser Jaime Lannister, who was standing at the entrance to the throne room with his sword held in his right hand. A sword that had blood on it. Jaime peered down at her then walked over and hurriedly scooped her up in his other hand. 

“What? What's going on?” Rhaenys asked, eyes narrowing at the sounds that were coming from the throne room and beyond. The power within her awoke too, at the threat, and she took a deep breath, wishing that her father was here, wishing that Rhaegar had never gone out of the city. Jaime didn't even breathe a word, just ran out of the family quarters, avoiding the throne room. “Jaime!” 

“My father and his army is riding through the city,” Jaime muttered. “I'm going to get you out then your brother and mother. I promised.” 

“Jaime, they're dead,” Rhaenys whispered, ducking her head against his shoulder. 

Jaime stilled beneath her then took off further into the castle. “Keep quiet, little dragon.” 

Rhaenys nodded and held on, grabbing his mail armor as he carried her out of the palace and to the cliff side. She knew of an escape route there so maybe Jaime did too? As they reached the side door, Jaime lowered her down and nudged her toward the door. 

“Jaime!” 

The Mountain stalked toward them, through the hallway, his sword dripping with red. Rhaenys shrieked and Balerion hissed loudly, coming to her feet. Her stubborn tom cat protecting her. She cried out when the Mountain reached Jaime’s back and just as Gregor Clegane was about to talk with the knight, Jaime ushered her behind him and pushed her toward the hidden door right under one of the dragon skulls. 

“Tywin ordered their deaths, Lannister!” The Mountain shouted, trying to twist around Jaime’s side to get to her. 

“Go, Rhaenys, princess of the House Targaryen,” Jaime yelled. “I can only take you this far!” 

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys ran and ran, going down the steps and keeping to the alleys of King’s Landing. She heard screams all around her and she held onto Balerion tighter, tight enough to hear the cat yowl. She whispered a quick apology and toddled on, a lone three old running from the death of her family. She avoided the men in the red cloaks, thinking it strange to have to run from the lions this time around. She had been a lion in her first life until she had made a deal with Death and now lions were the bad guys. Or at least most of the lions. Jaime had protected her. 

This time she was a dragon, though she knew she did not look it except for her violet eyes. She continued running through out the morning, taking a few breaks in small corners or one butcher shop. She huffed out short, quick breaths for a few minutes then continued on, running straight out for the gates of the city. The sun rose with her, shining its yellow light throughout the city and she later could have sworn that the sun’s glow was stained red. 

The people who saw her avoided her. The girl with the blood stained night gown and the black cat in her arms was thought to be a ghost. The black cat that ran alongside her further proved their theories that she was a witch, a wood witch’s daughter, that had had a ritual go wrong. Rhaenys ran through the city, hoping that the Lannisters were far behind her. She could even hear the bells ringing and more screams coming from the Red Keep as she ran and she hurriedly wiped at her eyes and ran on until she saw a lot of horses and men coming in through the Gate of the Gods. 

Rhaenys ran over to an alley to watch as more bannermen came through the gates. She looked over them and up at the gate itself, flinching at the lion banner that was flying at the top. She narrowed her eyes at the gold lion roaring on the red banner and promised herself she would find a way to wreck vengeance on the Lannisters for taking away her family, for taking away her brother and her mother. Balerion stopped in front of her and looked up at her, his green eyes dilating then he yowled. 

“Hush, Balerion,” Rhaenys whispered urgently, watching as the bannermen flowed into the city. The cat yowled again and she pulled him in, hugging him against her body. “Hush.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Eddard Stark knew from the very start, when he saw the Lannister banner flying at the gates, that things had gone horribly wrong. He rode alongside Howland Reed and Lord Willam Dustin and watched the surrounding city in the glowing mid morning sunlight. 

“Bad omen,” Howland remarked, pointing up at the lion banner. “Lord Tywin never entered the rebellion, did he?” 

“No,” Ned replied, making sure his hand was on the hilt of Ice. “Just like Lord Walder Frey in that regard. But I had hoped that the Lannisters would-” 

A scream interrupted him and he halted his horse, hearing the others do the same. Their bannermen pulled their swords out and some drew their bows, knowing that the city should have been filled with Targaryen bannermen but it wasn’t. It looked like it had been raided already, corpses of dead men with the Targaryen dragon littered the street and the streets they had already encountered stunk with blood and the scent of war. 

Another hushed scream drew his gaze toward the small alley to the left of them. Flea Bottom was that way but Ned scanned the alley and finally saw the source of the screams. Two boys were running around a girl, taunting her and throwing rocks at her. He winced and dismounted, holding out his reins to one of his own Stark bannermen. Howland Reed dismounted too and followed him, sword drawn. 

“Hey, you two!” 

The boys stopped what they were doing and turned around then fled, seeing Ned walk up with his hand on Ice. The girl stood shock still, staring up at him with terror in her eyes. Her clothes were also blood splattered, more than a few drops of blood and a hole in the shirt, that made Ned fear that the girl was injured, mayhap like she had been run through with a sword. A pained yowl drew his gaze toward a black cat that was slumped up against a wall behind the girl but his focus was on the girl. 

The girl child had short, curly, black hair and light… violet eyes. “Rhaenys Targaryen?” 

The girl stopped breathing in shock and scrambled backward until she hit the wall, scrabbling for something to defend herself with. Ned winced and held out his hands, leaving Ice in its sheath, crouching down to be at the girl’s level. “Rhaenys?” 

The girl tentatively nodded, her eyes going wide with fear. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, sweet girl,” Ned whispered, dropping his shoulders down. “What happened to you?” 

Rhaenys stared up at him, her shoulders drooping. “The lions… They killed mother. And my brother. He’s dead too.” 

Ned’s eyes widened at her admission then glanced up to where Howland Reed had followed him. Howland’s grey eyes were wide too, his hand on his blade. 

“You ran?” Ned asked, seeing Rhaenys study him. 

“Yes. Jaime helped though,” Rhaenys whispered, her eyes still wide with fear and exhaustion. “I saw Mama… They killed her. They threw Aegon against the wall. They’re both...” 

“Seven hells, Ned,” Howland murmured as Rhaenys’ eyes fluttered and she fell right into Ned’s open arms. “Prince Aegon was just a babe, not even two years old. And Princess Elia… I don’t like this.” 

Ned scooped Rhaenys up and wrapped her up in a cloak, feeling her small body shiver. “I don’t like this either. We should proceed with caution from here until the keep.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Ned kept little Rhaenys with him for the next few days, seeing to it that she was taken care of only by Stark bannermen. The little girl’s cat stuck close to her, hissing at anyone else who came close to his master. Howland helped too, taking Rhaenys when Ned was in the thick of the keep. When he had seen Aegon’s body in the front of the Red Keep, his stomach roiled. Aegon was covered in a red lion cloak and a fair few of their bannermen paled. A few threw up. Ned waited out front of the keep when he received word of Robert’s coming into the city, hoping that Robert would condemn the Lannisters.

He watched as Robert rode in ahead of his bannermen, stopping at the body of Aegon. Ser Barristan Selmy was riding a few horses behind Robert and stopped too, dismounting and paling considerably at the smaller body. Ned noted Selmy’s reaction then turned to Robert and inwardly flinched. Robert’s eyes were bright as he was looking down at the bodies.

“Where’s the other one?” Robert asked, raising his voice. “Where’s her body?”

Ned narrowed his eyes, glad that Howland had taken Rhaenys to their camp outside the city. “Robert? What do you mean?”

“I mean where is the body of the other dragonspawn?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ser Barristan reach down to where the hilt of his sword was. Barristan’s blue eyes were narrowed and more than a little angry.

“Robert, you can’t mean that,” Ned spoke hesitantly, beginning to get upset. “Aegon was but a babe. His sister is three years old, too young even to flower, to know what really happened.”

“Do you mean to tell me that Rhaenys Targaryen is alive still?” Robert questioned.

Barristan turned his gaze toward Ned, gazing at him curiously.

“Yes, she is still alive,” Ned remarked.

Robert narrowed his eyes. “Why haven’t you killed her already then? They were both dragonspawn. We can’t afford to have them around.”

“Robert!”

Ned saw Barristan hand over his horse to a stablemaster and walk off, in the direction of the Grand Maester’s quarters. He turned back to Robert, who was coming over to stand in front of him. Robert had his hand on his warhammer, his eyes narrowed and angry.

“Rhaenys is three years old, Robert! I am not going to kill a child in cold blood!” Ned said, raising his voice. On other matters, he would back down from in front of the future king and best friend but on this… “She was a scared little girl who wanted her mother! She said that she saw the lions kill them.”

“Well, good on them.”

Ned took a step back at that, his hand going to the hilt of Ice. “I will not, Robert. You will have to go through me before you lay a hand on that child.”

Robert stilled and the lords that had followed Robert turned to look at them. Jon Arryn dismounted and walked over to them, glancing between them with a frown. This was the first time that Robert and Ned had ever, really disagreed in all the years that he had known them. Tywin Lannister stopped at the entrance to the keep and over looked them, raising an eyebrow. Ned had heard Tywin comment to Jaime that he had had Elia and the babes killed, or at least, Elia and Aegon. They had steered off at least three Lannister soldiers from going into the Stark camp over the past few days, to which Ned had realized that Tywin had wanted the deed finished. Had wanted Rhaegar’s other child dead. He had doubled the guard on Rhaenys after that.

“Ned! That child will kill me! She’s the child of Rhaegar, gods damn him and her! Rhaegar stole Lyanna away from me!”

“If that’s how you feel, then I’m off to end the siege of Storm’s End,” Ned stated. “And I am taking Rhaenys back to her uncles in Dorne.”

“NED!”

Ned turned around and was about to walk off when he heard Robert hurry over and grasp his shoulder.

“What, Robert?”

“Take her up to Winterfell with you when you return,” Robert said angrily, his brown eyes staring right at Ned. “I will draw up a marriage contract for her with your firstborn son. I will not have her go back to Dorne. I hear Lady Catelyn is with child.”

“Why? She has family in Dorne,” Ned remarked. “They will take her in without a fuss. She’ll be out of your hands. There will be no more dragons in the six kingdoms.”

“Then she stays here as a hostage,” Robert spoke, crossing his arms.

“She is three years old!”

Robert glared at him and he returned the look only to think of Rhaenys’ frightened look when he first saw her.

“Very well. She will grow up in Winterfell and when the time comes, she will marry my firstborn.”

“I want not a word to Dorne that says she’s with you,” Robert exclaimed as Ned’s former best friend walked up to the Red Keep. “They can believe she’s dead for all I care.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ned, Howland Reed and the other Stark bannermen and lords did not stay long at Storm’s End. The Tyrells laid down their weapons as soon as Ned arrived, which he was secretly grateful for. He had talked to Barristan on the way out of the city and had learned that Rhaegar had taken Lyanna to the Tower of Joy. He left Storm’s End as soon as Tyrells had dispersed and took Howland Reed and a few other men with him to the Tower of Joy. They also brought Ethan Glover with them, newly rescued from the dungeons of the Red Keep. He also took Rhaenys with him, not trusting anyone else to make sure Rhaenys was safe.

 

* * *

 

 

They rode up the hill on the way to the Tower and saw the three horses tied to the post at the bottom. Ned dismounted and left Rhaenys with their horses, along with the Stark bannermen that he had brought to guard her. Martyn Cassel stayed with her too, having been ordered to go back to Winterfell with her if things went awry.

He led the others up the hill and spotted the three members of the kingsguard that were absent at the battle of the Trident. Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower, the lord commander of the kingsguard, were standing in front of the tower. The white cloaks billowed from their shoulders in the slight breeze that had seemingly followed Ned and the others.

The three of them straightened and put their hands on the hilts of their swords. Ned slowly walked up to them, his hand on Ice. He hoped that it wouldn’t come to fighting but he was prepared for it, if necessary. His men behind him were ready too, ready to fight and die for their relatively new liege lord since Rickard and Brandon had died.

“Lord Stark,” Arthur remarked wearily. Ned glanced up to the tower, where he suspected that Lyanna was then back at Arthur.

“Ser Arthur,” Ned spoke. “We looked for you three on the Trident. You were not there.”

“Our prince would not have fallen, if we were there,” Gerold stated. “Rhaegar and his family would still be alive and Aerys would be alive.”

“And yet we follow our orders,” Oswell added.

Ned thought of what Jaime Lannister had looked like, sitting on the throne with his bloody sword. Rhaenys had said Jaime had protected her, had killed a few Lannister men in defense of her. But Aerys? Ned knew the man had gone mad but he was still king.

“You three do not know that Rhaenys Targaryen is alive then?” Ned questioned.

Arthur’s eyes widened and Ned watched as the three kingsguard looked between each other.

“So it’s true then?” Gerold asked, looking straight at Ned. “We received a raven from our brother, Ser Barristan. He said you had her but that had been a week ago.”

“She’s back at the bottom of the hill with my bannermen,” Ned explained, watching as Arthur dropped Dawn, the sword of House Dayne, back into its sheath. A scream came down from the tower, ringing out from the lone window at the top. Ned distinctly recognized the voice as his sister’s, his heart clenching in his chest at the sound. “She’s safe and has been well taken care of. Robert… King Robert Baratheon wanted her dead. She’s to accompany me back to Winterfell and live as a hostage there.”

Arthur, Oswell and Gerold all narrowed their eyes and studied Ned and his companions.

“I pray you are telling the truth,” Arthur said, walking over to stop in front of Ned.

Ned fidgeted, wanting to go to his sister’s side. “I am.”

“Let us talk a while,” Arthur spoke, gesturing to his kingsguard brothers. “Your sister is up there. We were to keep her safe, Lord Stark. By Rhaegar’s orders.”

Ned raised an eyebrow but nodded, walking hurriedly up to the tower.

 

* * *

 

 

A week later, Ned Stark rode ahead of an impressive sight. Howland Reed rode next to him, along with Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Gerold Hightower. Rhaenys Targaryen rode behind Arthur, as she had been overjoyed to see him. The other Northern lords that had ridden with Ned into the south had already left for their own castles, their own men at arms following.

It had been a long year and winter had thankfully not come yet. It was still warm, with a slight chill, but that was normal for a summer like this one.

“Where are we going?” Rhaenys asked as they stopped at the front gate of Riverrun. Ned looked to where she was, riding with Arthur. Her black, curly hair had grown some since they had left King’s Landing and her light violet eyes had darkened just a little but there was something old in them. Howland had noted to Ned that she hadn’t talked a lot when she was in his company. Ned had thought that it was the trauma of seeing her family die. Though he didn’t remember really understanding death at that age either. “Lord Stark? Arthur?”

As soon as the gate was pulled up in Riverrun, they rode over the bridge and under the gate, stopping in the courtyard. Lady Catelyn Stark was standing in the middle, along with her brother Edmure Tully. Lysa Tully, now Arryn, was heading to the Eyrie, with Jon Arryn. Hoster Tully was just now coming down the steps from the keep. However, when the people in the courtyard saw Ned’s group, they all stared, some stopping their work and blinking in bewilderment.

“We are going North, princess,” Arthur whispered. “To Winterfell.”

“Winterfell?” Rhaenys asked, looking up at Arthur. “The Starks?”

“Yes, little dragon,” Arthur murmured, watching as Lady Catelyn embraced Eddard. There was a woman standing next to Catelyn, holding a babe in her arms. A maester stood behind them, with slightly graying hair. “It’s where the Starks live and it’s where you will live.”

“You’re coming too, right?” Rhaenys said, holding out her arms to Ser Oswell as he came over to help her down. The babe in Howland Reed’s arms started to cry, quiet but insistent.

“Yes, we are all coming,” Ser Oswell spoke. “To protect you and the little prince in Howland’s arms.”

“Is he my brother?” Rhaenys asked, looking between the three kingsguard. The three men looked between themselves, having forsworn the white cloaks between them, and nodded to each other.

“Yes, but he is a half brother,” Gerold whispered, kneeling down to be at eye level with the princess. “You must keep it a secret though. No one must know that he is family, okay?”

“I can keep that a secret,” Rhaenys agreed, smiling. “I’m good at keeping secrets!”

Arthur smiled at her, wishing that her mother could have been saved. Elia would have been proud of her daughter. He was proud of her. Rhaenys had cried herself to sleep in his arms when she had seen him and had traveled bravely with them. He watched her run over to where Howland Reed was and she demanded to see her brother. Howland just grinned at her and knelt down, allowing Rhaenys to peer at the child in his arms.

“What’s his name?” Rhaenys asked, looking up to where Ned and Lady Catelyn were. The Lady Stark was looking at Rhaenys and Lyanna’s child with bewilderment, looking between the children and Ned. “He looks squishy.”

Arthur, Howland and Oswell snorted. Gerold’s lips twitched up into a small grin.

“Jon Snow,” Ned spoke.

“Ned,” Lady Catelyn started.

“Robert already knows that I prevented him from killing Rhaenys. And what of this newborn son?”

Lady Catelyn studied Ned for a moment, her skin pale and her eyes narrow, then walked back to the woman that stood behind her. Arthur watched as Lady Catelyn scooped up the babe in the wet nurse’s arms and held him out to Ned. Arthur already knew of the fate that Robert had in mind of Rhaenys, to be married to Ned’s first born son and it looked like this child was it.

“I named him Robb,” Catelyn offered as Ned took the child and held him. “In honor of Robert.”

The child had tufts of curly red hair, Tully hair, and when the boy opened his eyes, Arthur saw blue eyes. The child had the looks of a Tully, not a Stark, but Arthur had no doubt that this Robb Stark would have as much honor as his father. It was often a Stark trait and he hoped that theirs would be a marriage of trust, unlike Aerys and Rhaella. But Arthur, Oswell and Gerold would be around to protect her and guide her until that time.


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaenys grew up at Winterfell, a dragon amongst wolves. The memories of a first life decreased in brightness and were replaced by memories of running about the snow laden ground of the courtyard. She cared for baby Jon and was mesmerized by Robb, at least when he grew past the babbling stage. Though she never forgot holding Aegon in her arms or being held in Rhaegar’s arms, she enjoyed holding little Bran or Sansa in her arms. She had always felt the need for family and this time she was getting siblings.

Or at least children her own age that felt like siblings. She was a ward, just like Theon Greyjoy later on. When news came that the Lannister fleet had gotten burned and destroyed, Rhaenys had grinned to herself. At least she had gotten some measure of revenge against the Lannisters but for the most part, she had seen Eddard Stark off with a twinge of worry. She remembered Eddard Stark a few years after her family was killed, coming home with little Theon beside him. Rhaenys had been nine years old then and had tried to keep Theon company in the first few weeks, showing him around Winterfell. Of course, Arthur’s presence behind her had frightened Theon some, seeing the tall man with the big sword at his waist. Rhaenys had giggled and ran right into Arthur’s arms, making the former kingsguard laugh.

Robb had joined her, all of six years old, in showing Theon around. They, along with Jon, had inevitably ran off without her often enough at that time and she had laughed, remembering her first few years at school at Hogwarts. She had thought boys were aliens at that time too and even before, in elementary school, boys had been carriers of cooties. And even so, back in England, no one had played with her due to her cousin’s bullying. When she was alone, she often went to go play with Arya and they got along well enough. Arya had insisted on Rhaenys telling stories of the old dragon skulls in the red keep and she had obliged the younger girl.

She remembered the dragon skulls with fondness, knowing somehow that they were gone now. The Usurper, she had heard her shadows call Robert that, had probably taken them down. She told Arya of Balerion’s skull at night but when Arya or Sansa asked of Rhaegar, she quieted down and didn’t talk. Rhaegar was her father and Jon’s and she didn’t… Both of her families, the Potter and the Targaryens, had gotten killed before she could really know them and she wanted to keep what she knew of Rhaegar to herself.

She often dreamed of Rhaegar, her magic floating around her dreams enough that she knew she was seeing the past. On one particular night eight years after she had moved to Winterfell, she woke up with a scream on her lips and sweat on her brow. She jumped out of her bed, threw a fur cloak on because it was winter and it was cold, and raced out of the keep. She didn’t even keep her feet silent enough that no one heard her; Ser Oswell followed her out into the courtyard and out to the godswood. And of course, now full grown Balerion padded out to walk alongside her. The tom cat got along with her and was an asshole to everyone else.

She stood beneath the heart tree, breathing heavily. Snow fell onto her black hair and stuck to her eyelashes, causing her to wordlessly cast a small weather shield around her. Balerion curled around her and asked to be picked up, purring away the moment she did. She tucked him under her cloak and hugged his warm body close, the cat’s protective nature reminding her of Hedwig. Ser Oswell stood behind her, a quiet shadow that she had gotten used to a few years ago. The three former kingsguard had always rotated between her, keeping a subtle eye on Jon as well. Jon didn’t even know that he was Rhaegar’s son because Ned and the kingsguard had made her keep that a secret.

“Princess, it’s cold out here,” Ser Oswell remarked after a few minutes. “You mustn’t freeze.”

“I’ve told you,” Rhaenys muttered. “I’m not a princess anymore. It’s just Rhaenys.”

“Princess, it’s cold out here.”

Rhaenys snorted, seeing her breath in the air on the exhale. “You know what? I’ve come to see Winterfell as home. I want nothing to do with King’s Landing or the throne. It’s safe here, or well, at least safe with you and Arthur and Ser Gerold.”

“Rather cold for a home,” Ser Oswell commented, his hand on the hilt of his sword. It wasn’t like anything or anyone could get to her in the godswood but Ser Oswell and the others were ever alert, since someone had tried to kill her a few months ago. They had deduced that it was a Faceless man but the man had killed himself before they could get answers.

“I miss father,” Rhaenys whispered. “Is that so wrong of me? When he… and… my grandfather between them got Lord Stark's sister, brother and father killed?”

She heard Oswell inhale sharply and then he was standing next to her, silent as ever. “Arthur should be here; he’s the best one to ask about dreams.”

“Who says I had a dream?” Rhaenys questioned, looking up at the man. She pushed a few strands of black hair behind her ear and pulled her cloak tighter around her; she always seemed to do worse in the cold weather than the Starks. Though she enjoyed the warmer weather and loved sitting near a fire. Mayhaps it was because she was a Targaryen. She had never felt the weather like this before, when she was a witch and was going to school at Hogwarts.

“You have this look about you,” Oswell offered.

Rhaenys snorted as he tried to copy her expression. “It was a dream of my grandfather.”

Ser Oswell sighed and held out a hand. “It’s best if we talk about this in the morning when you’ve had sleep. Come, your grace.”

“Ser! I’m not a queen!”

“Your mother thought you would be,” Oswell spoke as they walked back into the courtyard and then up to her room. She was quartered next to Sansa and Arya; the boys were opposite them in rooms. Ser Arthur and Gerold Hightower and Oswell were quartered with the men at arms but they always took a night shift with her. In the first few days after the attempt on her life, Robb had offered to sleep outside her door, like a knight in shining armor. Rhaenys had laughed quietly, seeing Robb smile at her. She hadn’t laughed a lot around that time, the attack having reminded her of her heritage.

“Yeah, well, my mother was raped and killed in the Red Keep,” Rhaenys retorted, shrugging. They stopped at her door and Ser Oswell saw her in. Rhaenys dropped Balerion onto the stone floor and he raced over to hurry under the covers of her bed, yowling quietly at his mistress’ strange outing to the cold world. “I would prefer not to be royalty.”

Oswell studied her then wished her goodnight.

 

* * *

 

 

“Did my grandfather burn people alive?” Rhaenys questioned the next morning as breakfast was served in the great hall. Everyone stilled, including the servants. Eddard stared at her with narrowed grey eyes and Lady Catelyn’s eyes widened, her face going pale. Theon, Jon and Robb all turned to stare at her with wide eyes. Sansa gasped, her face going paler than Catelyn’s. Ned stared at her with something akin to pity which made Rhaenys sigh and turn away, to look at Jon’s expression. His grey eyes, which were Stark eyes, were wide and solemn.

Maester Luwin turned to look at her too, studying. He was opening a few scrolls, messages that had come from Stark bannermen during the night. Some messages said that some fortress was running low on food or some other town was running low on water. Some messages said how many people died of the winter sickness that was going around. Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur were eating with Ser Rodrik, having heard of wildling raids. Rhaenys knew that at least one of them planned to go fight with the Stark bannermen.

Ned dipped his head in a slight nod. “He did.”

“Ned! This is not meal talk!” Catelyn exclaimed, gesturing to the kids.

“She is ten and one,” Ned spoke. “She deserves to know. Cat, you know how I found her.”

Catelyn frowned and turned to look at her then at Jon. “Very well, but not at the table.”

“Rhaenys, you can come with me to my solar,” Ned remarked. “If you want to hear of your grandfather, I will tell you.”

She nodded then finished up her breakfast.

 

* * *

 

 

“He is not sitting at the table with us,” Catelyn spoke out, gesturing to where Jon was sitting with Robb and Theon. Ned was standing across from her in the doorway of the great hall. “Not when the Northern lords come to celebrate the harvest.”

Rhaenys and Arya were sitting in the corner of the hall, whispering about something. They were most likely arguing about how useless sewing was. Rhaenys was now ten and four years old, three years older than Robb and Jon.

“Cat…” Ned trailed off.

“He’s your bastard son,” Cat retorted.

Ned sighed, peering over at Jon then at Rhaenys. “You are allowing Rhaenys to sit with us. She’s no different than Jon.”

“Rhaenys is not a bastard child. Jon is.”

“I have already said I am sorry,” Ned whispered. “You are punishing Jon for my transgressions.”

Catelyn narrowed her eyes then she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She looked over to where Arya and Rhaenys were only to see the dragon princess staring at her. Rhaenys’ light purple eyes were narrowed, upset, as if she had heard what Catelyn had been saying about Jon. And for all that Catelyn knew, maybe Rhaenys Targaryen could.

 

* * *

 

 

“Arthur, could you teach me how to fight?” Rhaenys asked, looking up at Arthur. He was standing on Winterfell’s north wall, remembering his first sighting of the wall a few years ago. There had been wildling raids a few months ago and Arthur had ended up at the Wall, in Castle Black afterwards. He glanced at her, her black curls moving about in the wind. Her eyes, that had deepened to Rhaegar’s deep purple, looked up at him with her best pleading look. The look that had gotten Rhaenys whatever she wanted in King’s Landing; the grin that had immediately gotten Rhaegar and Elia wrapped around her little finger. They had doted on her so much...

“Rhaenys,” Arthur started, looking over to where Robb, Theon and Jon were training with Ser Rodrik. Ser Gerold was assisting, pointing out a few errors in their stances.

“I need to know how to fight, Arthur,” Rhaenys argued. “Besides, I don’t want to immediately reach for the magic, not when it scares people.”

Arthur sighed, remembering when she had first made something float back in King’s Landing. It had been when they had gone to Dorne for the first time; Rhaenys had been so excited about seeing her uncles that she had made the things around her float. Elia’s ladies in waiting had been so scared when that had happened. Unluckily, it had also been around Aerys and when Arthur had seen undisguised want in the king’s eyes, he had told Rhaegar about it. Rhaegar had told them to keep a further eye on his daughter, see that Aerys didn’t spend any undue time with her.

“Little princess-”

“Arthur, you’re going to say yes,” Rhaenys argued, her eyes narrowed. “I need to be ready.”

Arthur stared at her, raising an eyebrow. “Dream?”

“It was another white walker one,” Rhaenys admitted quietly. “I know they haven’t been seen in thousands of years. But there are so many ways I could get into trouble and I want to be able to protect myself without you or the others around to protect myself.”

Arthur sighed, filing away her words about having another white walker dream. Last week, she had had a dream of dragons. “Alright, Rhaenys. I’ll teach you how to fight. It’s not like Lord Stark or Lady Stark have any say in what you do or don’t do. Join us when we assist Ser Rodrik in teaching the boys. I’ll talk to Eddard about it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys walked out into the courtyard, her eyes on Ser Rodrik standing in the practice yard. Robb, Theon, and Jon were standing in front of Rodrik, all with practice swords in their hands. Arya of course, was hiding between some of the barrels in the farthest corner, watching.

Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower were sparring to one side, showing the boys how to move their feet. Rhaenys finally came to a stop next to Robb, who grinned at her.

“Come to watch?” Theon asked, smirking at her.

“No,” Rhaenys replied.

Theon raised an eyebrow.

“I came to learn,” Rhaenys offered, grinning at Theon’s somewhat unsurprised look.

“That was what the shouting match was about then,” Robb said. “Ser Rodrik?”

Their teacher was looking Rhaenys over apprehensively. “Lord Stark said not to teach you lest the king disapprove.”

“That’s fine,” Rhaenys remarked, grinning wider and swinging the wooden practice sword that she held within her left hand. Her hand remembered holding a thinner, smaller stick in her left hand, made of holly. “I have my shadows to teach me.”

Arthur winked at her and bowed to Ser Gerold, who shrugged in bemusement. All three former members of the kingsguard were well used to the chaos she brought with her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mother, Jon’s hurt!” Robb yelled, rushing into the hallway and stopping in the doorway of the room where the women were. Rhaenys was sitting next to Arya, across from Sansa. Jeyne Poole sat next to Sansa and Septa Mordane sat in the middle of the group, pointing out a problem in Rhaenys’ sewing. The ten and five year old girl looked up at his arrival, her violet eyes studying him. Robb grinned at her and she raised an eyebrow. Rhaenys looked back at her sewing then over to Catelyn, who immediately looked up at her first born son. “Yes, Robb?”

“Jon’s hurt! He fell from a tree!”

Rhaenys stood up abruptly, dropping her undone sewing on the stool, and hurrying over to the door. She stared at Robb, tilted her head in that strange way she did, then ran back through the hall.

“Hmm? I shall send for Maester Luwin. Go. We shall be there quickly.”

Robb stared at his mother then ran back the way that he had come, heading out of the keep and the courtyard and into the godswood. He knew by now that his mother wouldn't tell the maester for another ten or fifteen minutes, so used to her being prejudiced against Jon. He could hear Rhaenys already talking to Jon, her quiet voice steadying but worried. He found Jon by the tree where he had left him and Rhaenys kneeling over him. Ser Arthur was standing guard over Rhaenys, her silent protector. Or occasionally not so silent. Robb remembered Arthur and Ned's argument over teaching the girl how to fight a few years ago. Robb stopped and looked over to Rhaenys, seeing her look back at him then down at Jon.

“You told Lady Catelyn?” Jon asked shakily, clutching his right arm close to his chest.

“Yes, I did, Jon,” Robb replied, wrapping a hand over Jon’s good hand. Jon squeezed his hand and they looked at each other, both knowing that Catelyn would take a while to send Maester Luwin.

“I can help,” Rhaenys whispered, with a glance over at Ser Arthur then back to Robb and Jon.

Robb turned to look at her, Jon still clutching his hand. “Help? How?”

“Princess...” Ser Arthur started, coming over and kneeling at Jon’s feet. “Are you sure?”

“They’re not our enemies, Arthur,” Rhaenys whispered, taking Jon’s other hand. Jon’s eyes widened but he squeezed it nonetheless. “If you two can keep this a secret...”

Robb stared at Rhaenys, seeing her look back at him. Her lips twitched up into a hesitant grin and a few curls of her black hair fell into her face. He had oft noticed that she purposely let her hair into her face, almost hiding her dark purple eyes. She did that when other lords and their families came to Winterfell to celebrate or for some other occasion. Most lords ignored her and some stared at her intently, like how wolves stared at their prey. Robb had noticed Lord Bolton stalk her in one of the corners of Winterfell a year ago and had to intervene, going to stand in front of Rhaenys. Admittedly, the daughter of Rhaegar had said she didn’t need anyone to protect her afterwards but he had seen her shaking fingers.

“I can keep a secret,” Robb finally replied, nodding.

“Even from your father and mother?” Rhaenys questioned, solemnly.

“Okay.”

Rhaenys stared at him then dipped her head and started to speak words under her breath. They didn’t sound like any language Robb knew and it didn’t really sound like what Valyrian would sound like. But then Jon yelped and a crack sounded from Jon’s hurt arm. A strong wind blew through the clearing and the weirwood tree above them creaked and almost seemed to glow. Robb shivered in the new breeze then just a second after it started, the wind stopped. Robb glanced down at Jon and Jon stared up at them, focusing more on Rhaenys, who was staring at them wearily.

“What… was that?” Jon finally asked, looking up at them from where he was leaning up against the heart tree. “My arm’s healed!”

“Magic.”

Robb’s eyes widened. “Dragon magic?”

Rhaenys giggled and shook her head. “No. I don’t even think that’s a real thing. Though I did accidentally burn my left hand a few days ago.”

“What? And you’re not… You should have gone to Maester Luwin,” Robb spoke, reaching out to grab Rhaenys’ left hand and examining it. Her hand was small and warm and he felt it go still, looking up at her. Rhaenys’ cheeks were red and her eyes were wide. He quickly let go and pulled back to sit across from her, with Jon in between them.

“I’m fine, wolf boy,” Rhaenys remarked, bemusedly. They heard Ser Arthur snort behind them and Rhaenys turned around to glare at the former kingsguard. Arthur whistled innocently and turned around, to all appearances, giving the three of them privacy. “Us dragons tend to be immune to the heat.”

“Wolf boy?” Jon repeated, looking up at Robb and sitting further up. “I like that nickname for you.”

Robb laughed and glared at them both before tackling Jon. Rhaenys and Jon both laughed before the two boys started to tussle.


	4. Chapter 4

Rhaenys watched as Ned led a few Stark bannermen, Robb, Jon, Theon, and Bran out Winterfell’s gate. They were going north so that Lord Stark could deal with a Night’s Watch deserter. Ser Gerold was going also, to discreetly watch over Jon and to see what the deserter had to say. All three members of her guard always took her dreams seriously and had not laughed whenever she described them. She sighed and looked over at Arya, who was also looking at the men wistfully.

“They never take us anywhere,” Arya complained. “What do they think we’ll do? Get lost?”

Rhaenys frowned, crossing her arms. “Mayhap it’s because they think we’re too… innocent?”

Arya snorted. “I’m 9 years old!”

“Or maybe because they think we can’t handle watching someone getting their head chopped off,” Rhaenys replied. “Or it’s because we’re girls.”

“They don’t know you’ve been teaching me swordfighting,” Arya said, glaring at the guards as they closed the gate. “I could totally handle someone getting their head chopped off.”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, turning to glance at Arya. “You sure? There’s a lot of blood involved.”

Arya went quiet at that. “Doesn’t us flowering involve blood?”

Rhaenys snorted but nodded. “Yeah, it does. Ugh…”

“You’re just staying here with me to escape from sewing lessons with Sansa.”

“So what if I am?”

Rhaenys laughed, shaking her head in bemusement. Her long black, curly hair fluttered in the wind and she sighed, reaching back to tie it together.

“Wish I was as beautiful as you or Sansa,” Arya muttered. “That way Septa Mordane or mother wouldn’t pick on me as much.”

“Being beautiful doesn’t account for much,” Rhaenys offered quietly, noting Ser Oswell’s presence a few feet behind her. He was planning on training the men at arms in a few moments and Arthur had gone with Lord Stark and Gerold, something about asking the deserter some questions. Balerion was romping about with the other castle cats, having bullied his way into being alpha cat the first week they had arrived here. Her cat  was getting on in age but he still ruled the roost, like his namesake. “Doesn’t stop girls and women from being raped and murdered.”

Arya looked up at her, narrowing her eyes. “This about your mother?”

Memories of her first mother, Lily came back to her. Lily’s shrill scream being the last thing she heard, the last thing she remembered of her mom. Then Elia’s desperate scream played in her mind too and she shuddered, grateful that there were no such things as dementors here. “Yes.”

“You never talk about that day,” Arya said, as Rhaenys turned around and walked back into the courtyard.

“For good reason. That…” Rhaenys trailed off, squinting at something that she could see out of the corner of her eyes. There was a white, whispy something at the door to the crypts, almost transparent. She drew her fur cloak tighter around herself and ambled in that direction, looking up into the keep’s windows briefly. She knew Catelyn Stark didn’t particularly care for her, though in a different way than she disliked Jon. With her, she reminded Catelyn of the man who had started a war. The war that might have taken Ned’s life. With Jon, it was just reminding Catelyn of Ned’s alleged affair with another woman.

“Rhaenys?”

It was just the two of them now and Arya trotted over to keep up with Rhaenys as the other young woman walked over to the crypt door. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something behind this door,” Rhaenys whispered, reaching to open it. “And before you ask, it’s not Bran or Rickon trying to trick us.”

Arya nodded. “Bran went with Robb and the others. And I know Rickon’s with mother.”

Rhaenys slipped inside, leaving the door open for Arya to follow. She followed the dragon girl through the gloomy hallway, looking at the various statues of the Starks of old. She spotted the statue of her grandfather, Rickard Stark, then hurried to catch up to Rhaenys, who was standing in front of Lyanna’s grave.

“Father?”

“Rhaenys?” Arya whispered, seeing nothing in front of them except the cold, dark hallway of the crypt.

Rhaenys reached out to tap her forehead with a warm hand then withdrew.

“Hey, what was-”

Arya’s eyes widened as a strange energy enveloped her. She blinked and refocused, seeing what Rhaenys was looking at now. There was a ghostly man in front of them, with long silvery hair fluttering about in a nonexistent wind. “Is that Rhaegar?”

The man was mostly see through but she could see his purple eyes. He winked at Arya before turning to look at Rhaenys.

“Sweet girl,” Rhaegar whispered, an eerie shade of his former self.

Rhaenys let out a strangled cry and reached out a hand, seeing her father reach out too. Their palms touched, her natural heat and power enabling Rhaegar to touch her hand.

“How?” Rhaenys finally spoke hesitantly.

“I have been told that my daughter bears a strange power,” Rhaegar remarked, kneeling to be at her eye level. “Strange enough to call the dead.”

Rhaenys stared and stared. “What about mother? Is she…”

Elia appeared next to Rhaegar, her eyes weary but fond as she looked upon her daughter. Rhaenys Targaryen, with her black hair and Rhaegar’s purple eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Elia murmured.

Rhaenys could feel tears pooling in her eyes and wiped them away, grinning a little. “I didn’t call you though.”

Rhaegar smiled softly and withdrew his hand. “We came on our own. Ser Arthur has taken good care of you, little dragon.”

“They all have,” Rhaenys whispered, still not really believing that her parents were right in front of her. “Ser Oswell and Gerold came too.”

“Good. What of Ser Barristan?” Rhaegar asked.

“I think he’s still in King’s Landing,” Rhaenys answered, turning to look at Arya, who was still quiet. Maybe the other girl knew that Rhaenys wanted to talk with her parents by herself. “Why did you come?”

“Hard times are in front of you,” Elia spoke, grimacing, reaching out to tug Rhaenys into a hug. “I’m sorry, Rhaenys. I tried to protect you.”

Rhaenys burrowed into the ghostly form of her mother. “Ser Jaime got me out of the keep, mother. My lion protected me.”

“That is good,” Rhaegar murmured. “What of Dorne?”

“Do they know you’re alive?” Elia asked, as Rhaenys pulled away to look at the two of them.

Rhaenys shook her head. “I think Robert… He forbid Lord Stark from letting Dorne know so I don’t think Doran or Oberyn know.”

Elia grimaced.

“Robert… Seven hells,” Rhaegar muttered then sighed. “Little dragon, we have brought you gifts that should make the coming months more bearable. Fire and blood.”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, wondering what her father meant by that. She knew it was their house motto but why he emphasized it, she had no idea.

“Gifts?” Arya repeated.

“You look like your aunt,” Rhaegar offered, glancing to Arya Stark.

“Lyanna?” Arya asked, her grey eyes wide.

“Yes. Now, Rhaenys, we don’t have much time here but we shall leave three gifts. With your abilities, I think you’ll know what to do with them. And do make sure my siblings are okay. You may be safe but they are not.”

Rhaenys nodded and then ran right into Rhaegar’s open, ghostly arms. “Why’d you have to go, papa?”

“I am sorry,” Rhaegar whispered, holding her close. “So sorry. I fucked up. When the time is right though, go to Dorne. They deserve to know that you are alive.”

“Tell my brothers I said hello,” Elia added. “If you ever need help, ask Oberyn. He would be more than willing to help you.”

Rhaenys nodded, her throat too clogged up with sniffles to talk.

Rhaegar and Elia pulled away from her, with Rhaegar pulling… a cloth bag out of somewhere. Rhaenys didn’t know where it had come from since her parents were both dead but he dropped the bag on the floor of the crypt. Arya exchanged a bewildered look with Rhaenys then went over to open it.

Rhaenys watched as Arya’s eyes widened so much that she thought they would fall out of the other girl’s head. “What? Arya?”

“Dragon eggs! Three of them!”

Rhaenys’ eyes widened as she took a few steps over to peer into the bag. There were indeed three dragon eggs. All of them were petrified but when she reached down to touch one, it was warm underneath her hand. The three eggs were green, red and blue, respectively. She looked up at her mother then looked at the blue egg.

“I’ll name a dragon after you, mother,” Rhaenys whispered.

Elia’s dark eyes softened. “I would be honored.”

“What… You mean you know how to hatch dragons?” Arya questioned, her eyes going wide. “Dragons haven’t been hatched in hundreds of years though.”

“Fire and blood,” Rhaenys echoed and her father smiled.

“I love you, Rhaenys,” Rhaegar whispered. “Be safe.”

“I will. Or at least, I’ll try,” Rhaenys spoke.

“That’s all we can ask,” Elia murmured, glancing to Rhaegar before waving at her daughter. “If you need us, just call. I love you.”

Rhaenys dipped her head in a nod, watching as both her parents vanished, leaving just her and Arya in the crypt.

 

* * *

 

 

“Rhaenys, what did Rhaegar mean when he said I looked like Lyanna?” Arya questioned as they walked back up to Rhaenys’ room. It had felt like they had spent an hour in the crypt but it had just been 30 minutes. Thirty wonderful minutes of seeing her father and mother again. They closed the door behind them, leaving Ser Oswell to stand guard. They ran over to sit on the bed and Rhaenys dropped the bag in the middle of it.

“I… He just meant you have the same eyes and hair,” Rhaenys offered, looking over to the fire that was simmering in the pit in the corner of the room. The fire crackled and burned, reminding her of the time that Draco and his friends cast cursed fire in the hidden room. Balerion padded over to jump onto the bed, curling up next to her. Arya narrowed her eyes and reached out to try to pet him, only to have him hiss at her.

Balerion was getting old, roughly about twelve years, but that didn’t mean he was mellowing.

“Rhaenys…” Arya retorted, elbowing her friend. “That’s not the whole truth and you know it.”

“The truth could get us all killed,” Rhaenys whispered, finally looking back at Arya Stark.

Arya’s eyes widened.

Rhaenys watched her friend blink a few times, obviously thinking over her words, then dropped her gaze to the bag. The eggs seemed like a siren call to her, drawing her towards them. She drew out the red one, turning it over in her hands. It was petrified and scaly but she could feel the warmth emanating from it.

“Rhaenys?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean it’s a secret that we could all get killed for?”

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything about it in the first place.”

“Rhaenys…”

“Arya, it’s a secret that your father made me keep,” Rhaenys retorted, drawing out the other two eggs as well. She was about to throw the bag aside when she heard a clinking sound at the bottom. She reached in and drew out a sword, a sword that looked vaguely familiar. “Oh…”

“What?” Arya asked, peering at the sword too.

“It’s Dark Sister,” Rhaenys murmured, getting up off the bed and swinging the sword around. It was light, just enough weight to be a good sword for her. The blade was slender and the hilt was small, fitting her hand just right. The crossguard at the top of the hilt looked like orange flame.

“Dark Sister?”

“The blade that Visenya Targaryen wielded,” Rhaenys explained. “Visenya, the sister wife of Aegon the Conqueror.”

“Oooh.”

“I wonder where it was…”

A knock on their door interrupted whatever Arya was about to say and Rhaenys walked over to open it. Ser Oswell was on the other side and he peered at her, his grey eyes scanning the room behind her. She could see the exact instant that he saw the eggs and the sword in her hand.

“Princess… Where did you get those?”

“They… My magic led me to them,” Rhaenys said. “Dark Sister was just lying in a corner of the crypt.”

Oswell’s eyes widened as he studied her, holding out his hand for the sword. She handed it to him and he looked it over. “Just in a corner of the crypt?”

“More or less.”

Oswell raised an eyebrow at her.

Rhaenys grinned, crossing her arms behind her back.

Oswell sighed. “Can I do anything to help?”

Rhaenys nodded. “Just watch over me.”

“As we always do, Princess.”

 

* * *

 

 

They had a small midday lunch before going back to Rhaenys’ quarters. They had tried to keep their talking of the eggs and the sword between themselves, not wanting to draw the attention of Lady Catelyn or Ser Rodrik. She directed Arya to build the fire more and higher, placing the three eggs in front of it. She drew Dark Sister, drawing a sharp inhale from Ser Oswell.

“Rhaenys?”

Arya’s eyes widened as Rhaenys cut open her palm, dribbling blood over the eggs. The strange power that Arya had felt before in the crypt wove through the room, bringing a chill through the suddenly open glass window. Rhaenys smeared her blood all over the three eggs, making little hand movements with her fingers. A strong wind buffeted her and she watched as Rhaenys swayed in place, the 20 year old Princess of House Targaryen coming into her own.

Power flooded the room, that same strange energy that emanated from Rhaenys in the crypt was here now. Arya shivered, taking a step back to stand beside Ser Oswell. The man was not even batting an eyelash at the Princess he was guarding.

“Ser?”

“Let her be,” Oswell muttered. “When she’s doing magic, she can’t be disturbed. I have faith in her.”

“Magic?”

The fire crackled and roared, rising higher and higher until it seemed to reach out, covering the three eggs until they were hidden from view. Rhaenys gasped as the fire reached out to her, snaking its way onto her hands before she let out a strangled yell and collapsed.

Oswell immediately raced over and caught her, watching as the fire receded back into the fire place. He looked her over, noting that as usual, there were no burns. She was breathing shallowly, sweat on her brow.   

“Look!”

As soon as the fire had settled and withdrawn, instead of eggs before them, there stood three baby dragons. One green, one dark red, one dark blue. They chirped and toddled around, looking up at them with little beady eyes. Balerion the cat yowled and jumped down, padding over to sit between Rhaenys and the dragons.

Arya giggled when the red dragon tottered over to sniff the cat. Balerion hissed lowly and batted the dragon's wings, like he thought the dragon was another cat. The red dragon chirped and headbutted the tomcat. Balerion huffed out a put upon sigh and sat down, as the two other baby dragons all curled around him.


	5. Chapter 5

Rhaenys woke to a small weight on her chest. She blinked her eyes open, expecting a dragon and seeing a wolf pup. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at Robb, who was sitting by her bed. Arthur, Gerold and Oswell were standing at the foot of her bed too, all with bemused grins on their faces. She stared at the pup and reached out a hand towards it, seeing Balerion curled up between her legs. There was movement around the cat too but just under the fur and she could belatedly feel leathery wings on her legs. The dragons around her legs were space heaters, almost making her too warm.

The pup on her chest was clearly a wolf, with grey fur and yellow eyes but…

“Is that a direwolf?” Rhaenys asked, coughing a little at her dry throat, her eyes widening as the wolf pup headbutted her gently.

“Grey Wind,” Robb said, grinning slightly. He reached over to the table by her bed and held up a mug over to her. She took it, smiling gratefully at him when she tasted cold water.  “Arya thinks it’s not a very imaginative name though.”

“You went to go deal with a deserter and came back with a direwolf pup.”

“Six direwolf pups,” Arthur remarked, his lips twitching up into a grin when chirping filled the air. “We leave to deal with the deserter and come back to baby dragons.”

“Rhaenys…” Robb trailed off, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were unconscious for two days,” Robb answered, crossing his arms. “We… I was worried.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widened. “Two days?”

The chirping increased in volume and Balerion hissed his annoyance, swatting at the lumps under the covers. One of the dragons under the furs hissed back and Rhaenys snorted, lightly nudging it with a foot. The fur covers of her bed moved around as one of the dragon’s moved their wings up and down.

The wolf pup… Grey Wind slowly slid off her chest as she sat up and looked up at her guards. Someone had undressed her, probably Lady Catelyn, and put her in sleep clothes. Ser Gerold had a frown on his face and she watched as he sighed.

“If only Prince Rhaegar was alive for this,” Gerold spoke, amusement running through his voice. Rhaenys grinned, knowing that Rhaegar had been ‘here’ and had totally expected Rhaenys to be able to hatch the dragons.  “He would be proud of you. And awed.”

“Rhaegar would have probably only expect it of his son,” Oswell commented. “Not his daughter.”

“Oswell only told us you found the eggs and sword in a corner of the crypt, Rhaenys,” Arthur added.

“They were,” Rhaenys argued, sitting up in her bed and reaching out to pet Balerion. The tomcat purred away, narrowing his dark eyes up at his mistress like he was trying to ask if he had been replaced. She grinned and scratched under his chin, knowing that the cat enjoyed that.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Gerold commented, crossing his arms. Rhaenys’ smile widened, looking up her knight commander. All three former kingsguard were growing old, their hair greying, but none had stepped down from protecting her. They were all knights and would die as knights, Arthur had said. Though Arthur was the youngest and Oswell between Arthur and Gerold. “But I do not think I care. Just as long as you didn’t steal them.”

Arthur snorted.

“King Robert’s coming,” Oswell interrupted, frowning. “How will you hide those dragons?”

“What did your father say?” Rhaenys asked, turning to look at Robb.

Robb frowned but his eyes were still amused. Rhaenys knew that all of the smallfolk of the town were enamored with the firstborn Stark and who wouldn’t be? Robb had the auburn, curly hair of the Tullys and their bright blue eyes. If Rhaenys had still been the Girl-Who-Lived, she wouldn’t have expected the heir to a medieval castle would be this attractive.

“He said that having the dragons killed would make him a hypocrite,” Robb offered, grinning a little. “He let us keep the direwolves. Jon had mentioned that there were five, one for each of us… There haven’t been dragons in hundreds of years though. How’d you do it?”

“Rhaenys!”

Arya pushed open the door, raced in and stopped when Robb threw an arm out to catch her. Jon followed Arya in, grinning a little. Rhaenys returned her brother’s grin and watched as he shook his head in bemusement. An all white direwolf pup stood next to Jon and Rhaenys’ eyes widened at the pup’s red eyes. “Where are they?”

Rhaenys grinned and gestured under the furs that covered her. One of the dragons chirped loudly at Arya’s entrance and she giggled.

“I fed them while you were out,” Arya exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. A direwolf pup stood next to her, with grey fur and dark golden eyes. “They liked cooked meat, like the wolves.”

“Thanks, Arya,” Rhaenys replied. “Oswell, you said that the king was coming?”

“We received a letter from King’s Landing,” Oswell said.

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at Gerold’s answering frown.

“Lord Stark wants to speak with you,” Gerold remarked, crossing his arms and sighing. “Before the king arrives.”

“What for?” Robb asked, turning to look at Gerold, Arthur and Oswell.

Rhaenys watched as the three older men all exchanged glances between them.

“Go see your father, Robb,” Arthur answered. “He needs to talk with you about a part of Robert’s conditions on letting Eddard bring Rhaenys here, instead of staying at King’s Landing as a hostage.”

Robb’s eyes widened, exchanging a bewildered look with Jon, then he looked to Rhaenys.

Rhaenys turned away, reaching one hand underneath the covers. A warm nose met her fingers and she slowly drew out the red dragon, its’ claws digging into her palm. The other two were asleep, as far as she could tell. Arya stared at it in amazement and Rhaenys laughed quietly, gesturing for her to come closer, patting the side of her bed. Without hesitation, Arya sat down on the corner of the bed and her direwolf pup followed.

Balerion yowled and jumped off, running out and through the open door.

“The king tried to keep you as a hostage?” Robb questioned.

“Yes. Your father argued against it,” Rhaenys replied quietly, stroking the little dragon in her lap and unhooking its’ claws from her skin. She probably would need leather guards around her arms and shoulders if the dragons continued to enjoy sitting on her. The dragon chirped almost questioningly up at her, like it could sense her unease. “I suppose Robert was worried I would grow up to become someone who would rebel against him.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed. “Do you remember much of King’s Landing?”

Rhaenys closed her eyes briefly before turning back to look at Robb. “I remember running from Gregor Clegane. I remember Lannister soldiers coming into the Red Keep. I remember my father riding out to go fight at the Trident and not coming back.”

She was tempted to mention remembering going to the Tower of Joy with Ned but with Arya and Robb in the room… She had always been tempted into telling Jon who his real parents were but hadn’t had the opportunity to. Rhaenys of course was treated so much better than Jon, given who her parents were but Jon… Everyone believed he was Ned’s bastard and thus treated him as such, reminding her of her treatment from the Dursley’s. Mayhap now, with her dragons, was the time to tell him.

Gerold, Oswell and Arthur all winced at that.

“If only we could have been there,” Arthur said, sighing. “Rhaegar would not have died.”

“And you wouldn’t have needed to run from Lannister troops if one of us had been with Jaime,” Gerold added, wrinkling his nose.

“He saved my life,” Rhaenys retorted. “I don’t care that he killed my grandfather. Especially since Aerys raped my grandmother and had Robb’s grandfather and uncle killed. And didn’t send my mother, my brother and I away to Dorne before the sack of the capital.”

“What are you going to name the dragons?” Arya interrupted. “I named my wolf, Nymeria, after the Dornish queen. Jon named his Ghost.”

“Ghost?” Rhaenys echoed, looking down at the white wolf pup.

“He doesn’t make any noise,” Jon offered, reaching down to stroke Ghost’s ears. “I thought it was a nice enough name. Better than Grey Wind.”

“Hey, it’s a good name,” Robb retorted. “He’s faster than any of the other wolves.”

“Besides, Sansa named her’s Lady,” Arya added. “You can’t pick a worse name than that.”

Rhaenys looked over to Arya then down at the red dragon, who had curled up in her lap. “I don’t know how to tell if they’re male or female.”

“I don’t think anyone living knows how to tell that,” Arthur replied, his lips twitching up into a grin. “Just name them what you will.”

Rhaenys smiled, remembering when Hagrid had named his baby dragon a male name when in fact the dragon had been a female. She could feel the other two dragons moving around under the furs and lifted the covers, letting them out. The silver dragon peered up at her curiously, its wings fluttering slightly, as the lavender dragon chirped at the red one.

“Maybe… Aliandra for the red one,” Rhaenys remarked, brushing a few strands of dark hair behind an ear. She thought of her mother's house, of Princess Aliandra Martell. “For Dorne.”

“Your uncles will like that,” Oswell commented.

"Lyandra for the silver one,” Rhaenys continued, nodding when the dragon in question trilled curiously up at her. She glanced up at Jon before looking away, remembering that Jon didn't know of his heritage yet.

“Lyandra?” Robb asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For Lyanna, the woman who my father also saw fit to partner with,” Rhaenys answered. “Among other things, anyway. And lastly, Morgana for the lavender one.”

Arthur’s dark eyes softened, knowing as much that Morgan Martell was the founder of House Martell.

 

* * *

 

 

The day after she had woken up, Rhaenys found herself in the godswood, the three dragons either toddling around the wood or at her feet. Morgana, the lavender one, was the most adventurous one amongst the three. The fur coat around her shoulders kept her warm and the leather guards underneath her sleeves kept the dragon’s claws from poking into her skin. She had gotten the idea from Ser Gerold and from Theon, watching as he got ready to practice archery.

Ned had pulled her aside after she had gotten out of bed and talked with her. Mostly about keeping the dragons secret and safe while King Robert and his family stayed at Winterfell. Otherwise, after the king’s visit, they would most likely be down three dragons and one Targaryen. Though she had tried to keep the dragons in her rooms, trying to avoid word getting out of Winterfell and down to the king. Rhaenys had retorted, _But_ _there would still be a Targaryen in Winterfell, Lord Stark!_

Ned had not looked very amused at that. He had also said that the king might make her marry Robb when he arrived to Winterfell. Rhaenys had already flowered several years ago and Robert was the kind of king to want to witness the ceremony, just to make sure she was still under his rule. Rhaenys had predictably grimaced at that, imagining several different reactions that Robert might have to her when the king’s family arrived in the North.

A warning hiss from Aliandra and Balerion brought her out of her thoughts and she turned to see Robb and Grey Wind walking towards them.

“Robb?”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow at the heir to Winterfell. He looked nervous, crossing his arms and looking at her intently.

“What?”

“My father told me we are to marry,” Robb explained.

Rhaenys shivered, though not from the cold. “Yep, it was what Robert asked Ned for. Marrying me wouldn’t be too bad, would it?”

Robb’s eyes widened and he took a few steps towards her. He watched as she crossed her arms behind her back, looking at him nervously. Her long, wild black hair was tired back, with little braids hanging out. She truly looked like a dragon princess, her purple eyes seeming to glow and the three dragons at her feet. Ser Gerold was a few feet behind her, standing at ease in front of the weirwood. Grey Wind trotted over to her and lowered his head to sniff at Aliandra, the red one.

“I would be honored, my lady,” Robb spoke. “If it protects you from Robert, all the better.”

Rhaenys looked at him, narrowing her eyes then sighed. “We’re friends, right?”

Robb grinned a little, crossing his arms. “I should hope so. You… are a little… intimidating though, like the Mormonts.”

Rhaenys blinked, tilting her head. “Me? Intimidating? You’re the heir to Winterfell!”

“With your dragons and your… everything,” Robb said, watching as the little silver dragon toddled over to him and peered up at him. Morgana, the one that looked like Rhaenys' eyes, crawled underneath Grey Wind, stopping between the wolf’s front legs and glanced up. Grey Wind whined in confusion but stayed still, as if the wolf knew if he moved, he would disrupt the creatures beneath him. “You’re a Princess of House Targaryen.”

“I’m a hostage,” Rhaenys retorted, her nose wrinkling.

Robb snorted and took a step closer, reaching out and pulling Rhaenys’ hands into his own. Her hands were calloused and warm, from feeding the dragons and carrying them, he figured. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve seen who is no stranger to death. You have survived the death of your family and still continue to be happy. As I said, I would be honored to stand beside you.”

Rhaenys stared at him, shrugging a little, her lips twitching up into a small grin. “You’re not too bad yourself. You’ve had at least half of Winterfell swoon at the sight of you, you know?”

Robb blinked then sighed, returning Rhaenys’ grin. “I’m aware.”

 

* * *

 

 

Throughout the next few weeks, the wolves and the dragons grew bigger. Rhaenys watched as Sansa became excited about seeing the prince, about how he was apparently quite handsome. Both Rhaenys and Arya rolled their eyes at Sansa, avoiding her whenever she started to talk about the prince.

Rhaenys often heard Jon talking with Robb about wanting to go north. Ned’s brother Benjen was planning on arriving at Winterfell to keep Ned from going crazy with whatever the king was planning on talking about. Theon had overheard Ned talking with Cat and had passed the information onto Robb and Jon, who had then asked Rhaenys.

_“Jon Arryn is dead,” Theon said, stepping over Morgana, who had been staring at the door. “That’s why Lord Stark is nervous about this trip.”_

_Rhaenys’ eyes had widened and then she started to pace around her room. Aliandra was on her shoulder though Rhaenys didn’t imagine that she would let the dragon be on her shoulder for very much longer. All three were growing fast, exploring Winterfell and the godswood with her. Mayhap it was her own natural magic that aided their growth. Maester Luwin had had no idea just how fast dragons grew._

_“You think King Robert is going to ask Ned to be Hand of the King?” Robb questioned, looking to Theon and Jon._

_“They were close,” Jon said, crossing his arms. “Up until Eddard came home from the Rebellion, that is.”_

_“Rhaenys, you said that was due to Robert not punishing the Lannisters?” Robb confirmed._

_“Yes,” Rhaenys answered, stopping at her bed. “Tywin had ordered their deaths, ordered my death.”_

_Robb flinched at that, his hand dropping to the sword at his hip._

_“I suppose I could have been killed that way too,” Theon commented. “My brothers died fighting though.”_

_“Your mother wasn’t violently raped though,” Rhaenys said, grimacing. “It does seem likely that Robert could ask your father to be Hand of the King. We’ll see when they come, won’t we?”_

 

* * *

 

 

A knock at her door drew her attention and she went to open it, finding Jon. None of her three guards were in front of her door as they had decided to get a good night’s sleep tonight, ready for a busy day tomorrow. They had received word that the king was due to arrive here tomorrow and all three former kingsguard were going to be around her when Robert was in the castle. Besides, everyone was getting ready to host the royal family. The servants were getting the great hall ready, cleaning and making sure the kitchen was ready.

“Jon?”

Her half brother quickly stepped inside, walking over to stand next to Lyandra. The she dragon chirped up at him and nudged him with her nose. Jon started, his eyes widening as he looked down at the little dragon. The tiny beast followed him with her eyes as he moved. Ghost prowled into her room, his red eyes intent for any danger then he sat down beside Jon. Robb, Arya and the others were asleep but Rhaenys was still awake, thinking about tomorrow and what it might bring.

“Lady Catelyn was walking this way,” Jon explained quietly. “I didn’t want to be around here when I’m not suppose to be.”

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, studying her dragons. All three of them had been comfortable with Jon from the start. “Jon…”

“Rhaenys?”

“You’re going to join the Night’s Watch.”

“Yes. I’m not wanted here,” Jon spoke, his voice tired.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Rhaenys asked, getting up off her bed and dislodging Balerion, Aliandra and Morgana. She was dressed in her night clothes as Jon turned his back on her, his cheeks pinking up a little.

Jon shook his head. “Bad dream.”

Rhaenys sighed, reaching over and grabbing a tie for her hair. She tied it back before braiding a few of the strands that usually bothered her. She threw on her fur cloak, looking down at herself, and shrugged. “Come on. Let me show you something.”

Jon looked at in confusion then nodded, following Rhaenys out of her room, Ghost at his side. He heard the dragons move around and start to follow before Rhaenys shut the door on them.

“Balerion, keep them company, will you?” Rhaenys muttered before leading Jon out through the hallway. They could hear a yowl from the cat and then hissing as the dragons pouted in their own way.

“They won’t kill each other, will they?” Jon asked, yawning slightly.

Rhaenys snorted and shook her head. “They think Balerion’s their alpha, despite the species difference.”

Jon grinned a little as she led them out of the keep and into the courtyard. “Rhaenys, where are you…”

“It’s something I should have shown you several years ago,” Rhaenys murmured, as she sped up. Jon followed her as they stopped at the door to the crypt.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Lord Stark forbade me from telling you,” Rhaenys said, wrinkling her nose. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t show you.”

Jon’s eyes widened as his heart began to race at her words. “What…”

“Jon,” Rhaenys started, opening the door to the crypt and stepping inside. Jon followed and watched as she held out her palm. It was dark inside, the only lights were the small candles flickering in front of the statues of past Starks. Jon watched as she closed the door behind them then muttered something under her breath, that same, old language that she had spoken just before healing his arm several years ago. “You wonder who your mother is, right?”

A ball of light appeared in her palm then rose up into the air, hovering above them. It brightened up the crypt and let him see where they were going as Rhaenys walked forward.

“You know who my mother is?” Jon questioned, his eyes widening even more as he followed her.

“I do,” Rhaenys remarked, leading him to the back of the crypt, to where Lyanna Stark’s statue was. She stopped, glanced at him then pointed right at Lyanna Stark. “That’s your mother.”

Jon stared and stared, blinking a few times. “You mean that Lyanna and Ned…”

Rhaenys snorted and elbowed him. “You really think Ned and Lyanna would have taken the Targaryen route?”

Jon shook his head as he stared at the statue of Lyanna. “Then…”

His eyes widened. Ghost nudged his hand and he stroked the wolf’s fur lightly.

Silence filled the crypt for a few minutes and Rhaenys stared at him expectantly.

“Rhaegar Targaryen is my father?”

“Yep.”

"That's why you named one of the dragons..."

"Yes."


	6. Chapter 6

Rhaenys watched as the king’s parade grew closer, feeling the sun beam down on her. Bran was right next to her and they could hear Summer whining a little, glancing up at them from the ground. Balerion was sitting next to Summer, having gotten used to all of direwolves except for Shaggydog already. Rickon’s wolf was a little more wild than the others, perhaps the youngest as well. As for Rhaenys’ other animals, all three dragons were shut in her room. They didn’t like it but it was for their own safety.

“It’s a big procession!” Bran exclaimed, glancing over to her. “I think I can see the kingsguard from here too!”

“Probably. The kingsguard would be easy to pick out from here,” Rhaenys remarked. “I wonder how Ser Barristan is doing though. Robert can’t be…”

She trailed off at Bran’s excited smile. “You know Ser Barristan!”

“I knew him,” Rhaenys confirmed. “But it was a long time ago, when I was just three years old. You think you want to be a member of the kingsguard when you grow up?”

“I’m already grown,” Bran retorted. 

“When you’re further grown up then?”

Bran nodded. “I want to be a knight and then a kingsguard.”

Rhaenys glanced down to the ground where Arthur, Gerold and Oswell were. The three men were standing behind the wolf and the cat, at ease, as they watched their princess climb towers with Bran. She could see Lady Catelyn come towards them, walking out of the keep. “Bran, we need to get down. Your mother is coming.”

Bran’s eyes widened and he quickly ran down, jumping between roofs and then landing on his feet.  She followed, jumping lightly between the rooftops of the stable and the tower, landing on her feet. She grinned as she remembered how she had never ended up on her feet back in her first life, back when she had apparated or flooed somewhere. To date, she had never apparated in Westeros, out of not wanting to scare anyone. Though if she did get caught, she knew she wouldn’t get burned at the stake for it. Magic was, had been, normal back when her house was still at its’ peak. Back when dragons were still the ruling house.

She watched as Lady Catelyn scolded Bran for climbing and rolled her eyes, knowing that Bran would not stop climbing now. 

“What did Ser Barristan’s last letter say?” Rhaenys asked, narrowing her eyes at Gerold’s frown. She had heard the three men talk between each other last evening during the last meal of the day, about Ser Barristan’s letter that they had received within the last week. Her hands dropped to pick up Balerion and stroked his head, watching as the cat’s ears flicked back and forth at the noises and smells from the king’s procession.

“Our brother says he is thinking about staying here,” Gerold spoke, peering at her before looking at Arthur and Oswell. “This cannot go past your ears, Princess.”

“Of course it won’t. But what about guarding the… Robert?”

Oswell shook his head at her rephrasing, amused. “He says that King Robert is not… worthy of his advice and shield.”

“But I am?” Rhaenys questioned. “Won’t he get in trouble for that?”

“You are the Princess of House Targaryen,” Arthur remarked. “You are worthy of our shields. No one would dispute that.”

Rhaenys looked down at Balerion briefly, her cheeks reddening, before raising an eyebrow. She had never had such an example of devotion in her past life and it was new and amazing. “I told my half brother who he is.”

Gerold snorted.

“So that’s why he was rather quiet this morning,” Arthur said thoughtfully.

“More quiet than usual too,” Oswell commented. 

 

* * *

  
  


Jon watched as the king’s family moved through the arch, the king in the lead and the Queen’s wheelhouse after him. The kingsguard were riding around the king and the queen, with Ser Jaime and Barristan in the lead. Jon looked right up to King Robert, taking in the person who had killed Jon’s father and had not said a thing when Rhaenys’ mother and their sibling had gotten killed.

Rhaenys was standing right next to him, as they stood behind the trueborn Starks. She was dressed in a red gown, with the Stark fur cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Her wild, black hair was pulled back gently, with two braids framing her face. Her purple eyes faintly glowed with apprehension and Jon could swear that he could detect at least a little anger in them too.

Though he knew, she would never act on that anger or show it. He had seen her asking for courtly lessons from none other than Ser Gerold, an unusual person to go to for those kinds of lessons but she had said she much preferred her shadows over Lady Catelyn. Jon had also been privy to noticing that Rhaenys had pulled Arya aside over the past few weeks, in the hour between the last meal of the day and when they went to bed. The dragon princess had been teaching Arya how to wield a sword.

King Robert Baratheon stopped his horse in the middle of the courtyard and waited. 

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, watching as the king had to wait for someone to come help him down from his horse. King Robert was so overweight that she pitied the poor creature who was bearing him. She herself had a nice mare, who always whinnied when she saw her, having gotten riding lessons from Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold.

The king dismounted then headed right for Lord Stark and his family, who were kneeling. However, he stopped when he saw that Rhaenys was not kneeling at all. She was still at the back of the group but she was the only one not bowing respectively. She raised an eyebrow at King Robert, who narrowed his black eyes, then turned to Lord Stark and grinned. He was just ignoring her presence for the most part but she knew… He had taken note of her stance. 

So had Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold behind her though she suspected that they had assumed as much, by their quiet looks of approval when she turned to look at them. She dipped her head in a nod and turned back to look at the king’s family, watching as King Robert greeted every Stark, stopping and saying something to her own betrothed, Robb. 

She narrowed her own eyes in apprehension, feeling Balerion rub against her shin in comfort. Her stomach roiled at the thought of Robb turning his back on her then realized that Robb was a Stark and had grown up with her. He would never put credit into what the king would say about her.

Rhaenys turned to look as Queen Cersei stepped down from her wheelhouse. She herself couldn’t imagine riding in that kind of thing. When her dragons got old enough, she was flying, not being driven to where ever she was going. Especially since she ached to be in the air, to feel the currents of the wind buffet her. It made her miss quidditch, playing with her friends and housemates. 

The princes and princess followed, each of them looking around the courtyard and the keep. Myrcella Baratheon kept to the queen’s side and so did Tommen but Joffrey walked over to stand behind the king. 

Ser Barristan walked out from behind the wheelhouse and she smiled, recognizing the grizzled, old knight even though it had been years since she had seen him. He walked over to stand with the other members of the kingsguard, Ser Jaime among them. 

“I want to see the crypt,” King Robert finally said, returning to look at Lord Stark.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys watched as both Lord Stark and King Robert left, heading towards the crypt where the Starks of old were buried. And where she had seen her father and mother. She watched as a few of the other kingsguard followed Robert, leaving Ser Barristan to reunite with his former brothers. She grinned and turned to look at Jon, feeling Lady Catelyn’s disapproving eyes on her. 

She had a feeling that her not bowing would be talked about for ages afterward and she hoped that… the king hadn’t taken it for her going against him. She just didn’t… give a fuck about him, that was all. 

 

* * *

 

 

“King Robert has asked me to be Hand of the King,” Lord Stark remarked, as Rhaenys and Robb walked into his solar. The royal family had settled into their rooms in the keep, with the kingsguard stationed at the door to the king’s quarters. Rhaenys had avoided that whole wing, seeing as she didn’t want to run into any Lannister or Baratheon. “He has also asked that you two wed before he leaves to go back to King’s Landing.”

Robb nodded, turning to look at Rhaenys cautiously. “That wasn’t unexpected though, right?”

Rhaenys shook her head, looking outside at the practice yard. Prince Tommen and Bran were sparring with wooden swords, watched over by Ser Aerys Oakheart. Her own guards were at the door, their full armor on in case some Lannister got it into their head to kill her. Besides, if there was indeed someone who tried to kill her, they would have to go through Arthur, Oswell, Gerold, Grey Wind, and Lord Stark. Robb’s direwolf was standing between the two of them and she reached out to stroke Grey Wind’s back, noting that the wolf had grown bigger even since yesterday.

“I did not kneel before him,” Rhaenys remarked, sighing, wrinkling her nose. “That probably tells Robert that you and your family didn’t do much to subdue my… heritage.”

Lord Stark looked at her, grey eyes studying her. “It will certainly inflame certain critics of the king, if word of that gets out. Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn still do not know you are alive, I suspect.”

“You are a Targaryen at heart,” Robb added thoughtfully. “We would never have tried to keep you in line.”

“Well, good. You would have failed,” Rhaenys retorted, crossing her arms.

Robb grinned. “Your dragons are evidence enough of that. Are they still in your quarters?”

“Yes. They don’t like it but I think I was able to impress upon them the importance of staying quiet,” Rhaenys offered, drawing her cloak around herself tighter. “Lord Stark, are you going to… accept?”

Ned frowned and shrugged minutely. 

“We’ll keep Winterfell in one piece, father,” Robb commented, narrowing his eyes. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rhaenys studied the Lord of Winterfell. “You want to find out who killed Jon Arryn.”

 

* * *

 

 

“How fares our Princess?” Ser Barristan asked, as he followed Ser Arthur, Gerold and Oswell into the room next to Lord Stark’s solar. Ser Oswell closed the door behind them and they stood around the table in the middle of it. Barristan had enjoyed seeing the three other former kingsguard this morning, had clapped them on the shoulders in a welcoming gesture.

“She is well,” Ser Gerold replied, his lips twitching up. “We halfway expected her to do something more this morning.”

“Not kneeling before the king is something,” Ser Barristan commented, crossing his arms in thought. “Prince Joffrey’s been talking all day about taking her, damned be the consequences.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, exchanging serious glances with the other men. “Her dragons might have something to say about that.”

Ser Barristan’s eyes widened. “Surely you mean you three.”

Ser Oswell shook his head, grinning a little. “She hatched three dragons right before my eyes.”

Barristan’s eyes widened even more, his hands falling to his sides. “How?”

“Prince Rhaegar said his daughter was special,” Arthur spoke. “We just didn’t know how special. And she has Dark Sister.”

“If she has dragons, where are they?” Ser Barristan asked. “Word would have gotten out.”

“She keeps them in her room,” Gerold answered, gesturing in the direction of Rhaenys’ room. “They’re in there now, along with Balerion, their protective guard cat.”


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as Rhaenys finished her meal at the table, she excused herself, glancing to Queen Cersei. Lady Catelyn was sitting next to the queen, a little uncomfortable and quiet, shifting in her seat. The Queen was even more uncomfortable, watching as King Robert invited serving women onto his lap.

“No doing that after we’re married,” Rhaenys muttered, elbowing Robb.

Robb gasped in mock outrage, his blue eyes lighting up with amusement. “My lady, who do you take me for?”

Rhaenys laughed, drawing her hand up to her mouth to cover her laughter. Robb grinned and reached out with a hand to grasp hers, bringing it to his mouth to kiss. Rhaenys’ cheeks reddened, heat coiling in her body, as his lips stayed briefly before he pulled away. Faint memories of exploring her sexuality in her first life came back to her, playing around with Draco. She took a deep breath then sat back, turning to look around at all the people in the great hall.

There were quite a few northern Lords here, Lord Karstark and Lady Maege Mormont were sitting further down the hall. Rhaenys liked the Mormonts, had seen them come to Winterfell for a few of the past Harvest feasts. The women were fierce and protective, she-bears that fought tooth and nail to protect their families. Rhaenys glanced over at Jon and they locked eyes, her purple to Jon’s grey.

He suddenly stood up, leaving the hall, Ghost at his heels.

“All the ladies in the town are disappointed, you know,” Theon chimed in, sitting across from them. He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, used to his ways by now that she knew to ignore him. “Now that you’re taken, Robb.”

“I am taken,” Robb agreed, grinning lightly.

Rhaenys dipped her head in a nod then stood up, intent on going after her half brother.

“Rhaenys?” Robb questioned.

“I’m okay. I just want to go see if Jon’s okay.”

“Cheating on him already?”

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, stiffening at the king’s yell. The hall went silent at that, everyone turning to look at her. Her hands clenched to fists, her magic swirling around her in her vision. She dimly heard her shadows walk over and flank her. They would probably kill for her and die for her, if she decided to harm the king. Grey Wind whined under the table and Robb stared up at her, mouth tight, his blue eyes narrowed in worry and disgust. She was just barely able to see that Robb’s anger was not directed at her but the king, who still had a girl on his lap.

“He’s not worth it, is he.”

“No, he is not,” Arthur whispered.

Rhaenys turned around, conscious of the Starks that could possibly be in the line of fire. Of the serving women and the direwolves. Of the other Lannister bannermen that her shadows would kill just to keep her safe. She looked King Robert Baratheon in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “If you accuse me of cheating with my betrothed, you had best look at yourself, your Grace.”

She dipped her head in a nod, turned around and walked through the still silent aisle and hall. She just barely saw Lady Maege wink at her and she grinned, her heart still beating fast at the situation and that knowing that she had the older woman’s support, meant the world. She felt Balerion rub against her feet as she walked, her little cat dragon walking next to her until she stopped short of walking into Ser Jaime Lannister. Her eyes widened, mirroring Ser Jaime’s as his own green widened until she thought they would fall out.

“Ser Jaime.”

Jaime blinked, his eyes still wide. He stared at her then sidestepped, letting her pass. She stared at him, a question on her lips when he bypassed her entirely to walk over to the queen. She remembered him picking her up in the Red Keep and carrying her all the way to the secret tunnels. Remembered screaming out for him, warning him of Ser Gregor Clegane as the Mountain came towards her.

Afterwards, much later, she had heard Lord Stark saying that Ser Jaime had killed Gregor Clegane in defense of her.

  


* * *

 

 

Jon hacked away at the training dummy with his sword, feeling sweat drip down his forehead. The moon shone down on him, illuminating the courtyard and providing extra light.

“You’ve been more quiet lately, Jon.”

He turned around to see Rhaenys, his… half sister, standing behind him, eyebrow raised. Her dark hair was down, unbraided and Balerion was at her feet. Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, and Ser Gerold were behind her, quiet and unobtrusive sworn shields. Though they looked to be on higher alert than usual, like they expected the king to make a move against Rhaenys while he was here.

“Are you sure that my father is...” Jon trailed off, dropping his sword and arm to his side.

“Yes, I’m sure. Ask the men behind me if you want confirmation.”

Jon peered over at the former kingsguard, looking around at empty courtyard.

“What she says is true, Jon. We were there,” Gerold spoke quietly. “In fact, Rhaenys thought you looked squishy.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at her and she shrugged, her lips twitching up into a grin. “What? I was three years old!”

Jon finally, slowly grinned. “Now you’re 20 and about to be wed to my… cousin?”

King Robert had decreed the wedding to be done the night before the royal family left Winterfell, which was in five days. Lady Catelyn and Sansa were all bustling about, trying to get a dress ready for her. Rhaenys had pointedly avoided the two other women, choosing instead to spend time with her dragons and perfecting her swordsmanship.

“Robb’s not too bad to look at,” Rhaenys admitted, glad that Jon was easing back into their old banter.

Jon snorted. “You like like him, as you used to say when Theon had delusions of love.”

“What, are you ten and two?”

They both broke into quiet laughter and Rhaenys was about to reluctantly go back inside when Balerion yowled a warning. She turned around only to see Ser Jaime’s brother, Tyrion Lannister, walking towards them. Arthur, Gerold, and Oswell dropped their hands to their swords, not taking them out but clearly ready to defend her.

“Princess Rhaenys?”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow at Tyrion, looking him over. He had a mug in his hands, what was probably ale in it. “Yes, that would be me. I’m pretty sure that I’m not a Stark.”

Jon snorted.

“Not yet, or so I hear,” Tyrion remarked, looking her over just as much as she was studying him.

Rhaenys nodded. “I’ll still be a dragon though.”

Tyrion dipped his head, his mismatched eyes of green and black lit up with interest. “I had hoped to meet you.”

“Me? Why?”

“One of the last Targaryens alive,” Tyrion spoke, peering over at Arthur, Oswell and Gerold. “She who has the loyalty of the greatest knights alive today, minus my brother.”

“Avoiding the feast?” Rhaenys asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not my kind of thing to be honest,” Tyrion answered, glancing at Jon before studying her. “Not yours either?”

“I’m the princess of an exiled family,” Rhaenys spoke. “The king thinks me dragonspawn, which I am. I’m not going to deny it. I’m also the daughter of Elia Martell too.”

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed. “Did he say something?”

“He implied that I was leaving the great hall to cheat on my betrothed,” Rhaenys remarked idly, crossing her arms. “King Robert is a little like my grandfather in that way, I suppose. At least my grandfather when he was younger anyway. I heard King Aerys groped quite a few women on their way to the bedding ceremony. Lady Joanna Lannister, to name but one.”

Jon flinched. Tyrion’s face lost all of its color and Rhaenys remembered Lord Stark telling her of Lady Joanna’s death in childbirth.

“I have no intention of doing that, by the way,” Rhaenys muttered, elbowing Jon. “I was raised a Stark.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Jon commented.

“Robert is not one to cross,” Tyrion offered, shaking his head. “However, his words are distasteful. Let me apologize on behalf of my sister’s husband.”

“Your sister’s husband can apologize himself,” Rhaenys muttered. “If my father was on the throne, he wouldn’t have done that. My mother would have hit him.”

  


* * *

 

 

Sansa watched as Prince Joffrey sparred with Bran the next morning, watching as Bran went on the defensive. Joffrey smirked at her brother then winked at her. Sansa grinned as she watched her eventual husband. Her father had told her of the betrothal this morning, of merging the two families through marriage. And marrying a prince made her heart beat quicker especially since Joffrey was so handsome. He would be like the princes in the stories, gallant and brave like a lion.

Ser Aerys Oakheart was standing on the sidelines, watching the two young boys fight with wooden swords.

“I hear you and Lady Catelyn finished my dress.”

Sansa started, turning to see Princess Rhaenys walk over and stand next to her. Lady got up from where she was curled at her feet, sniffing over at Rhaenys, who held out a hand. Balerion, who had come out of Rhaenys’ room to roam and to get away from the three baby dragons, rubbed up against Lady, quietly purring as he did so. “We did. I hope you’ll like it. I added the… Well, you’ll see.”

Rhaenys nodded, peering over at the match in front of them. “Your brother knows his footwork well.”

“Prince Joffrey knows it too. Isn’t he handsome?”

“Sansa…”

“Rhaenys, I know his father did bad things to yours but you’ll like Joffrey,” Sansa spoke, gesturing to the prince. “Joffrey isn’t like King Robert.”

“I beg to differ,” Rhaenys muttered as Bran yielded, lowering his blade to his side. Sansa started to clap and Bran turned towards them and Joffrey followed, only to throw out a leg to trip Bran. Bran tripped, his legs going out from under him as Joffrey took in Sansa’s applause. Sansa’s brother quickly recovered, glaring at Prince Joffrey before walking off, Summer at his heels. “I would hate to know what he’s thinking now.”

“Oh look, your cat thinks it’s a dog!” Joffrey smirked at her.

“Balerion thinks he’s a dragon,” Rhaenys remarked, her magic pooling in her fingertips at the insult. “Besides, Lady’s not a dog. She’s a direwolf.”

Joffrey laughed rudely, dark amusement in his eyes. “If your cat thinks he’s a dragon, why don’t you marry him? Dragons marry each other, don’t you?”

“Rhaenys,” Sansa murmured, tugging on her sleeves.

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, walking over to sit on top of the bales of straw that lined the practice field and crossing her legs. “There are already other dragons that Balerion takes care of, Prince Joffrey.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Princess Rhaenys.”

Ser Barristan eyed the young woman as she walked over towards him after the nightly meal. The Lannisters had already gone to their beds and the king was gone, watched over by the other members of the kingsguard. The Starks remained, talking amongst each other.

Rhaenys had been sitting next to Arya and Robb, with Theon Greyjoy sitting across from them. Jon was sitting on Robb’s other side, chatting about their practice on the field. Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell were each standing at the ends of the tables, leaning against the stone walls. She studied him just as much as he studied her, stopping in front of him.

“Long time no see,” Rhaenys spoke, crossing her arms loosely about her chest.

“Princess Rhaenys,” Barristan spoke, his voice low but overcome with emotion. “I am glad to see you enjoying your life here. I regret not being able to do much more when you were young.”

Rhaenys jerked a thumb over to her other sworn shields. “They’ve protected me well enough. I hope guarding Robert hasn’t been too hard.”

Ser Barristan’s lips twitched up as he shook his head. “No, my lady. I did hear your response to him the first night though. He was upset.”

“Well, good. With the dreams I’ve been having, the king should be upset.”

Ser Barristan raised an eyebrow. “Dreams?”

“I had a white walker dream the night before Lord Stark killed the deserter from the Night’s Watch,” Rhaenys said, shrugging.

“Have you told the others?”

“Hmm, yes. They know. I don’t know if Lord Stark believes me though. Maester Luwin just thinks that I am dreaming about Old Nan’s stories despite the Targaryen blood in me.”

Ser Barristan looked around at the great hall, seeing the other Stark children and his former kingsguard brothers. They looked at ease for the most part and Lord Eddard was looking their way, studying Princess Rhaenys and Ser Barristan with a contemplative expression.

  


* * *

 

 

It was just one day before the wedding. King Robert and Lord Stark had gone out riding early in the morning, to discuss plans. Sansa had led Rhaenys to her room, wanting to show her the dress when they both heard a loud hissing noise accompanied by a howl. Rhaenys’ eyes widened, exchanging bewildered glances with Sansa. Lady whined at Sansa’s heels, turning to look towards the broken tower that Bran so loved to climb.

“Is that-”

“That’s…” Rhaenys trailed off, looking over to the door to her room. Ser Arthur, Oswell and Gerold were all on the alert as more howls were heard. “Bran!”

“What?” Sansa asked, her eyes wide.

“That’s Summer’s howl,” Rhaenys muttered just as her door broke open and three baby dragons rolled their way out, crashing through the door, and ran over to her. They reached up to her knees and they crowded around her, almost quivering with… something. She stroked Aliandra’s head, running her fingers down the dragon’s neck as men came running down the hall. Lannister bannermen. She grimaced, eyes narrowing as Prince Joffrey came around the corner right after the men in lion cloaks.

The Prince’s eyes widened at the sight that met him and then he started to shout.

“FATHER!! DRAGONS!”

The sound of steel being drawn behind her made her turn, more than a little startled, but it was just her sworn shields. Ser Arthur had drawn Dawn, Ser Oswell had drawn his sword and Ser Gerold had drawn another. All three of them moved to flank Rhaenys and Sansa, with the direwolf and dragons in the middle. All three dragons were spitting smoke, sparks of flame coming out of their slightly opened mouths.

“Sansa, go see your father,” Rhaenys whispered urgently as Lannister bannermen drew their own and stalked forward. Prince Joffrey ran over to them, something malicious in his eyes as he smirked at Rhaenys.

“I’m going to kill a dragon today,” Joffrey said, grinning.

“Sansa, go!”

Sansa didn’t need telling again, racing off back down the hallway behind them.

Rhaenys drew on her magic as she heard the sounds of many more booted feet racing their way.

“Princess, move,” Arthur ordered, reaching out to push her behind them.

“No. This does not need to lead to killing,” Rhaenys whispered, feeling the Elder Wand slide into her left hand and start humming. She whispered the spell on her lips, felt it reach out, warding the hallways so that no one else could see them. Her magic reached out, stunning everyone in the hallway except her guards, the dragons, the wolf and herself. Another spell rose in her mind right afterward, this one of memory, just barely dipping into dark magic before she reached out, extending her reach to the entire hallway before them.

She felt each mind as she touched them, erased their memory of the past few minutes. Erased the sight of three small dragons and cast a spell of hiding on the creatures, made them look like crows to everyone else. It took several minutes since there were several Lannister bannermen in the hallway but she did it.

The men in front of her in lion cloaks came out of the spell a few seconds later. Their eyes widened minutely before turning around and walking off. Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her before reaching out towards her, a smirk on his lips.

“The dragon girl thinks the crows are her dragons!”

She heard footsteps behind her and turned around, seeing Sansa coming back with Lord Stark and Robb. Robb immediately raced to her, eyes knit in concern. Prince Joffrey grinned as King Robert came around the corner, followed by Queen Cersei and the kingsguard.

“Did they see?” Robb asked, looking down at the strange… “Are those…”

Rhaenys dipped her head in a shaky nod as Lord Stark walked over to talk with Ser Arthur. “Joffrey wanted to… He wanted to kill them and me.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed.

“I suppose I’m still dragonspawn then.”

“Rhaenys,” Robb spoke, pulling her away from seeing the king and his son. He reached out to gently place a hand on her cheek and she sighed, leaning into his hand. “You are not dragonspawn. You are a Princess of House Targaryen, daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. You survived your family’s destruction. You are the right heir-”

“Heir to the throne.”

Rhaenys and Robb turned to see Lord Eddard Stark stare at them, his grey eyes intent.

“Ned, we need to talk. Your son, Bran. Would you like to postpone the wedding?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is sex in this chapter since it is the wedding ceremony but you guys can skip it if you don't want to read it.

Rhaenys stepped into Bran’s room, seeing Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark standing over Bran’s bed. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Jon and Maester Luwin were all crowded around the room also. Of course, all of the direwolves and one cat were here too, standing close to their respective Stark and Targaryen.

“Should we postpone the wedding?” Rhaenys questioned, walking over to stand beside Robb and looking at Lord Eddard. “Bran… Do we know what happened?”

“He fell,” Lord Stark answered, crossing his arms in thought.

“But he’s never fallen,” Rhaenys argued, her eyes narrowing. “Mayhap someone… Do we know where everyone was at the time that he fell?”

“You’re suggesting that someone pushed him.” Robb turned to look at her, his blue eyes looked her over before sitting down beside an unconscious Bran. Summer glanced up at him from where the direwolf was on Bran’s other side then put his head back on his paws. “Someone of the King’s house.”

“Maybe. My thoughts are probably biased though,” Rhaenys offered, pushing some hair behind her ears. She sighed, glancing over to Sansa. “Have you made ready my dress?”

“Both of them are ready,” Lady Catelyn replied, her voice shaky and watery.

“Lady Maege is staying for the wedding,” Lord Stark spoke, peering over at her. “It is to be tomorrow and then King Robert and I will leave the day after.”

“Rhaenys…”

She looked over at Jon, who caught her eye and pointedly looked down at Bran. She raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding what Jon wanted to say. He probably remembered the time that she had healed his arm.

“Lord Stark, I had wanted to talk to you about that,” Rhaenys said, feeling her magic flow around her, strengthened after she had really used it to wipe the memories of the Lannister bannermen and Prince Joffrey yesterday. It had been the first big use of her magic here since she had healed Jon’s arm a few years ago. “And I will do what I can for Bran.”

“You’re not a maester,” Luwin said, putting a hand on Bran’s forehead. “What do you mean by that?”

“Dragon magic,” Rhaenys spoke, her lips twitching up into a slight grin.

“You will not harm him.” Lady Catelyn looked up at her, her eyes narrowed, and suspicious.

“I will not. He is like a brother to me,” Rhaenys retorted. “I will not let any further harm come to him, unlike my actual brother.”

Robb, Lord Stark, Jon and Catelyn all flinched.

  


* * *

 

 

Robb watched as Rhaenys walked into the godswood and everyone went silent at her entrance. The torchlights in the aisle flickered in the slight cool evening breeze, bringing the scents of the after ceremony feast to everyone’s noses. Rhaenys was dressed in a sight of white, her dress falling down to her feet, and Robb noted that the dress was lined in red at the hems. Ser Arthur Dayne was escorting her, in lieu of her father. Arthur Dayne was in armor, his sword Dawn strapped to his hip.

Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell stood behind Robb, their eyes searching for any potential threat to their lady. Sansa stood behind him too, holding the bride’s cloak that he would cloak Rhaenys in and he could see a hint of red wing over grey fabric. Robb grinned and returned his attention to the godswood.

King Robert Baratheon and his family stood in the front of the hall, on the right side of the godswood. Queen Cersei smirked as Rhaenys walked in, eyes narrowed.

Lady Catelyn, Jon, Arya, Rickon stood on the other side of the godswood. Jon stood just behind Robb’s siblings but just as intent on watching the ceremony. Theon stood next to Jon too, behind the Starks, but still of the household.

Robb’s focus was entirely on Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, watching his betrothed walk up to him and stop before him. Ser Arthur raised an eyebrow, his hand going to his blade and Robb paled at the pointed threat. Grey Wind let out a huff of breath at his side and he heard Balerion mew behind the weirwood tree.

Lord Eddard stood in front of them, first glancing to Robb before looking to Rhaenys. Robb could see that she had an eye on both the king and the queen as Ser Arthur stepped over to the side. He hoped that the king and queen weren’t about to interfere; he could see that Rhaenys was just as uncomfortable with their presence as he was. Rhaenys’ eyes were tight, narrow and she was rigid, still. All three former kingsguard were too, their hands on their blades.

Maester Luwin stood next to Lord Stark, watching the two of them.

“Rhaenys Targaryen, do you take this man to be your husband?”

“I do,” Rhaenys finally spoke, looking right at Robb.

“Robb Stark, do you take this woman to be your wife?”

“I do,” Robb replied.

“Join hands and kneel,” Lord Stark said quietly, respectively.

Robb watched as Rhaenys held out her right hand and he held out his left, grasping their hands together. Rhaenys looked to him, her lips twitching up into a slight but weary smile and they knelt as two, before the heart tree. They bowed their heads and Robb squeezed Rhaenys’ hand when he felt her tremble a little. She squeezed back and silence filled the godswood, traditionally allowing for any quiet prayer.

A few minutes passed in silence then King Robert cleared his throat loudly.

“Rise as husband and wife,” Lord Stark spoke, solemn, as he drew their attention.

They rose as one, wed under the heart tree. Rhaenys looked into Robb’s eyes, his blue meeting her purple.

“You may now cloak the bride.”

Sansa handed over the cloak, a Stark cloak, one with a wolf’s fur lining the collar. Rhaenys stood still as Robb closed the distance between them, holding up the cloak and draping it over Rhaenys’ shoulders. Rhaenys peered down at it, her eyes widening at the sight. The cloak that Sansa and Lady Catelyn had made her was Stark grey, with a red dragon stitched so that the creature’s wings opened on her shoulders, almost hugging her.

Robb heard a few sharp inhales, mostly coming from the king and queen and their family. However, he did not see any reaction, be it negative or positive, from Ser Jaime Lannister. The kingslayer stood passively next to the king, standing at attention. Tyrion though… Robb thought he could see the Imp’s lips twitch up into a small, subtle grin.

He turned his attention back to Rhaenys, seeing her appreciation for his mother and sister. Her eyes were soft as she stared at him, their hands still entwined. Robb brought his other hand up to cup her cheek, her skin warm, as he lowered his mouth to hers, tentative.

Rhaenys leaned into Robb’s hand, letting out a sigh, before leaning into her new husband. The kiss was chaste and short and she would totally have deepened it, had the king and queen been elsewhere. As it was, after a minute, she hesitantly pulled away, leaning her forehead against Robb’s and catching his eyes.

“Shall we?” Robb asked quietly.

Her stomach rumbled, interrupting the moment, and Rhaenys stiffened. Robb grinned and she snorted, shrugging her shoulders while drawing her bride cloak tighter around herself. She took his proffered hand and startled when he scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She glared at him, seeing Arthur smile out of the corner of her eyes.

“It’s tradition, my lady,” Robb whispered, teasing fondness in his voice.

“Are you sure you didn’t just make this up?” Rhaenys muttered, as he started off down the aisle in the godswood. “I can walk perfectly fine on my own.”

“As well as fly when your dragons get old enough,” Robb said quietly, stopping to look up to the window to her rooms in the keep.

Rhaenys grinned at the reminder, seeing at least half of a wing appear in the window. She hoped that her dragons weren’t trying to jump up onto the window to see her. “I can’t wait to fly… To be in the clouds and free.”

Robb continued to walk, with Jon, Theon, and Arya falling into step with them. Arya was unusually silent, Nymeria at her heels. Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell followed behind them, with Ser Barristan nominally, officially, still King Robert’s guard, it was just the three of them. With the king leaving tomorrow, Ser Barristan would stay in Winterfell with Rhaenys, making it known that he was leaving the kingsguard in favor of guarding her.

“Have you ever flown before? You sound like you have,” Robb whispered as they reached the great hall. The hall was filled with familiar people like Lady Maege Mormont, Lady Dacey, and other Stark bannermen. As the wedding party filed in, she spotted Benjen Stark, who she hadn’t seen at the ceremony.

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, raising her voice a little to be heard over the crowds. “That is a story for another time.”

Robb finally lowered her to the floor before the platform at the front of the hall. They exchanged glances before walking around the table, over to the other side and sitting down in the two empty seats that had been left for them. They were to the left of where Lord Stark sat in the middle and on the other side of Eddard was the king and queen.

 

* * *

 

 

“Now time for the bedding ceremony!” King Robert yelled out after the feast. “Come on!”

Rhaenys stiffened, wishing she could just kill the king now and be done with it. She knew the bedding ceremony was tradition in the north and for nobles in the south but still… She hoped that Robert wasn’t looking to listen in on their room. Some of the Stark bannermen cheered while some of the serving ladies whistled.

Her cheeks reddened as some unfamiliar men picked her up, their hands pawing at her cloak and leggings. Her hands clenched into fists, gritting her teeth, as someone broke into the group and scooped her up.

“My lady.”

Rhaenys breathed a sigh of relief at Ser Arthur’s voice, listening to the other men groan though they kept their distance. Arthur had been the deadliest knight of the kingsguard and still was lethal, along with Oswell and Gerold.  “My knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed and swept her out of the great hall, through the hall and to a new room. They were heading to another wing of the keep, one that hadn’t been in use by the current generation of Starks. It was a room that she had passed many times, a room that had lain empty for several years. Now, the door was open and she saw Robb through it as Arthur set her down.

“I will be right here,” Arthur whispered. “So will Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold. Call if you need us.”

“Would you check on my dragons?” Rhaenys whispered, before stepping into the room. “I know Arya probably will but you three would be able to… defend them if anything happened.”

“We will make sure nothing happens to your dragons, my lady,” Ser Arthur murmured.

Rhaenys nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Robb was standing by the fireplace, shirtless and hesitant in his movements.

“We don’t have to do this,” Robb started, watching her as she moved towards him.

Rhaenys stopped just a foot from Robb, glancing back towards the door then back at him. “The king forced this.”

Robb sighed. “Rhaenys…”

“I like like you, Robb, as Theon says sometimes,” Rhaenys interrupted, taking a step closer towards him and closing the distance between them. “And I want to continue that kiss.”

Robb’s eyes widened but he reached out for her, stroking her cheek. He pulled her in and she met him halfway, touching her lips to his. Rhaenys heard Robb pull in a shaky breath as she deepened it, sparks of heat spreading throughout her body as Robb wrapped his arms around her.

They pulled apart after a minute, breathing heavily. Rhaenys touched her forehead to Robb’s, looking into his blue eyes then stepped back, slipping her cloak off and slowly pulling off her tunic. Robb stared at her, his pupils blown with arousal, watching as stood there, breasts bared, body uncovered.

“Princess…”

There was awe in his voice, respect and more than a little bit of want. Her cheeks reddened at the expression in his eyes. She glanced at the stone floor, over to the fireplace and the fire that was roaring in it. Warm fingers tipped her chin up, making her look up into Robb’s eyes.

“You are beautiful, dragon princess.”

“You’re handsome too, wolf boy,” Rhaenys spoke, her lips twitching up into a slight but hesitant grin.

Robb grinned back, his hands moving about her body as they moved to the bed. She watched as he slipped off his cloak, his tunic and took in his pale skin, his Tully blue eyes and auburn hair and sat on the bed, her fingers grasping at the furs on it. Robb met her on the bed, leaning over to kiss her shoulder, kissing a line of heat from her shoulder up to her throat to her lips.

Heat ran through her body as she laid back, shuffling up to the headboard of the bed. Her thighs clenched together as she felt wetness flow from her inner most place. Sweat dripped down her back as she moved. Robb followed, his hands moving all over her chest, over her breasts, causing goosebumps to follow his fingers.

“Rhaenys… Beautiful.”

She wrapped an arm around his neck, bringing him down into a heated kiss, her fingers traveling up into his hair. He groaned into it, pulling away and smirked at her before lowering down her body, one of his hands trailing down her stomach and waist to hover over that place.

“Do you trust me?” Robb asked, his eyes narrowed in thought and just a little caution.

“Of course I do!” Rhaenys retorted loudly, crossing her arms above her breasts. “Of course I do…”

Robb smiled then lowered his mouth to her inner thighs. She was about to-

“Robb!”

He laughed and gave her another lick there, making her arch up with a yell.

“You taste good.”

She rolled her eyes, moaning, as his fingers replaced his mouth, curling and hitting… She whimpered, pushing into his hand and heard him groan. Pleasure built at the base of her spine, her toes curling, her fingers digging into the furs beneath her as Robb moved, setting his cock up and slipping inside her with one thrust. She yelled out at the new feeling, Robb’s fingers trailing over her chest. He lowered down to kiss her, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy.

She squirmed, took a deep breath, arching up into Robb’s mouth as he let her adjust. Her eyes closed of their own accord briefly before reopening, settling, as she glared up at Robb, whose eyes were narrowed out of concern.

“Rhaenys?”

“I’m not breakable,” Rhaenys whispered.

“Of course you’re not,” Robb murmured, his hand reaching out to cradle her face like she was something precious.

“Then move.”

Robb snorted and moved, slowly thrusting in and out. Rhaenys reached out to grasp his hands and he stared at her, sweat dripping down from his forehead to hers. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide in concentration. She whined as the pleasure within her built up, almost like a fire burning within, like when she had hatched her dragons, or like the first time she had cast a patronus in this life.

She cried out at the same time he did, release spiraling through them. Rhaenys shuddered, her body quivering with the pleasure. Robb lowered down to lay next to her, pulled out and wrapped her up in his arms, yanking the furs up and over them. Rhaenys yawned, burrowed into Robb’s chest, her eyes drooping.

The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was a light press of lips on her forehead.

 

* * *

  
  


Robb woke first, the morning light beaming into their room from the window. He stretched, memories of last night running through his mind, then turned to where Rhaenys was still asleep, spread out next to him. Her hair was all out beneath her and her body bared. He smiled and brushed a few strands out of her face.

“My lady…”

“Too early.”

One of her hands came up out from the furs, tried to swat at him.

Robb laughed and grasped her hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss.

Rhaenys grumbled something under her breath, her eyes opening up to reveal the beautiful purple. She stared at him, still sleepy then sighed. “I suppose we have to wake up.”

“I would appreciate it if you told your guards that you’re alive and okay.”

“Tell them yourself.”

“Rhaenys, is Jon…”

“Robb?” Rhaenys peered up at him, now fully awake and sitting up against the headboard, frowning.

“Jon. He’s not just a friend to you.”

Rhaenys’ eyes narrowed, her body freezing. “If you think I truly cheated on you-”

“No! I know you, my lady. You would not.”

Rhaenys sighed and glanced out the window before turning to look at him. “This cannot go past your ears.”

Robb raised an eyebrow, wondering what Rhaenys knew that made her say that. “What of it?”

“Jon… is my half brother.”

Robb blinked, hearing the door open, and booted footsteps come in. The click of claws made him look up, seeing Grey Wind, followed by Arthur Dayne.

“You are okay, Princess,” Arthur spoke, dipping his head in a nod.

“Arthur! You thought…” Rhaenys trailed off, wrinkling her nose at a thought. “You were thinking of my grandfather and grandmother.”

Robb flinched, remembering what Lord Stark had said of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. “I would not force myself on her, ser.”

“I know you would not,” Ser Arthur said, his lips twitching up into a grin. “Your wolf just wanted in.”

Grey Wind trotted up to the bed and jumped up, nudging Rhaenys into petting him.

“Your dragons are safe and they have been fed by Lady Arya.”

“Good. May we have a minute or two?”

Arthur dipped his head in a nod and backed out, returning to his post.

Robb took a deep breath and turned back to look at Rhaenys, his lady wife. “Jon… is your half brother?”

Rhaenys nodded, stroking Grey Wind’s ears.

“My aunt then.”

Rhaenys nodded again.

“You told him a day before the king and his family came, didn’t you?”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow then snorted. “My shadows noticed his quietness too.”

Robb grinned. “That is why the dragons seem to enjoy his presence, even more than they don’t mind us. He has Targaryen blood.”

“Yes.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jaime Lannister watched as Robb Stark and Rhaenys Targaryen, now Stark, walked through the entrance to the great hall. They looked content, both of them. Robb and Rhaenys sat down next to the other Stark children, Robb’s direwolf curling up at their feet. Rhaenys was not limping or favoring her side or anything that might indicate abuse. Made sense really, since Robb was Ned Stark’s son and not the Mad King Aerys.

Rhaenys looked radiant though, her long black hair a little wild and beautiful, like her mother’s. Her purple eyes reminded Jaime of Rhaegar but there was something fierce in them, that had not been in Rhaegar’s. Something that made Jaime think that she would defend her adopted family to the death. He watched as she chatted with Arya, something about her cat and mayhap about the other direwolves. Though… He was pretty sure that none of the wolves were called ‘Lyandra’.

Cersei caught his eyes and he turned back to guarding Robert, occasionally turning to look at the young woman who he had saved from Ser Gregor ten and seven years ago. Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower stood behind her, their eyes fixed on Rhaenys, protective shadows. Jaime had heard that Robert had been very angered to hear that he had lost the three best knights of the kingsguard to the girl, the dragonspawn.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys sighed as she watched Lord Stark out of the corner of her eyes. Robb was talking with Theon, something about going hunting this afternoon. Jon had already said he would join them, choosing to stay with Rhaenys instead of going to the Wall. Jon was outside the hall, for once having agreed to watch the dragons instead of Arya.

Tomorrow was the day that the king was going to leave and take Lord Stark with him. And Benjen Stark would leave to go back to the Wall. Sansa and Arya were bickering about going south with the king, with Sansa excited about marrying the prince and Arya not looking forward to going.

King Robert and Queen Cersei were sitting next to Lord Eddard on the dais, with the king talking excitedly to his oldest friend.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, my lady?” Arthur stepped up to her side as she turned to look at him. Robb paused, turned to look at her in question.

“Ser Jaime was there when Lord Rickard and Brandon died, wasn’t he?”

Robb winced. “Rhaenys? What are you thinking?”

“Yes, he was,” Arthur replied quietly, grimacing. “Rhaegar ordered us to guard Lyanna at the Tower of Joy. We were not there.”

“Starks do not fare well in the south,” Rhaenys spoke. “Mayhaps I can talk your father out of going.”

“He said he was going to try to figure out who killed Lord Jon,” Robb murmured, raising an eyebrow. “My father is King Robert’s best and oldest friend. You will have a hard time talking him out of that. I know my mother does not want him to go. Arya doesn’t want to go either.”

“Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark, Lyanna Stark. They all went south and they all died.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Lord Stark, can I speak to you in private?”

Ned turned around as he left the great hall, seeing Rhaenys stop behind him. Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold were behind her, making him wonder where Oswell was. Something in her eyes made him think that the third member of her guard was back with Robb. “My lady. We can talk in my solar.”

Rhaenys dipped her head in a nod, every part of her regal from her shoulders to her expression. Ned walked back and offered her his arm, which she took. They walked along the halls of Winterfell, quiet and contemplative.

“Where is the little Balerion this morning?” Ned finally asked, as they turned down the hall that led to his office.

Rhaenys laughed, gestured out one window to the stables. “He’s in there with the horses, probably terrorizing the horses that came with the king.”

They stepped into Ned’s office and he sat down at his desk, peering up at her.

“You should not go with the king,” Rhaenys finally spoke after a few minutes of silence.

Ned’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Rhaenys, seeing a Targaryen princess standing before him. Her purple eyes gleamed in the morning sun, her Stark cloak tight around her shoulders. “What makes you think that?”

“Starks do not fare well in the south,” Rhaenys remarked, looking right at him and not flinching. “Your brother, your sister, your father. They all went south and they all died. You would be going straight into the lion’s den.”

“I will take precautions,” Ned said. “Jory will come with me and I will have a personal guard.”

“Lord Stark, you have not been to King’s Landing for seventeen years,” Rhaenys argued, her eyes narrowed. “Court politics is dangerous for someone as honorable as you are.”

“Rhaenys, I will have my captain with me and I will be Hand of the King. We will be safe.”

“Safe?! My mother thought we were safe in the capital while my father went and fought for us,” Rhaenys retorted. “My mother thought we would be safe up until we weren’t!”

Ned grimaced. “I am a Stark. Robert wed Cersei to make peace with the Lannisters. My friend wouldn’t allow them to harm us.”

“The only Lannister who I currently somewhat trust is the one in the kingsguard,” Rhaenys spoke, walking up to stand right before the desk. “Lord Tywin ordered the deaths of my mother, my brother and me. He does not care about honor, about what is right. He wanted to curry favor with your best friend. The best friend who did not care about what Tywin did to my mother’s body. Robert never sought justice for Elia, for Aegon!”

“Rhaenys…

“Don’t go. Robert can go get his brother to be his Hand.”

“I…” Ned trailed off, looking at Rhaenys in a new light. “You really are Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhaenys questioned, her eyes narrowing.

“You just sounded like a queen, my lady.”

Rhaenys huffed out a bitter laugh. “If I had gone to live with my uncles in Dorne, they probably would have had already crowned me queen and gone to war.”

“Was I right to keep you here?”

“I would have died if you had not argued with Robert,” Rhaenys spoke, her voice weary. “I have fallen in love with Winterfell and its’ Starks. I have fallen in love with your son. I have met my baby brother. It has been wonderful growing up here.”

 _But I miss my mother_ was the unheard end to that sentence.

“I will think on your request,” Ned offered. “You had best stay out of the king’s way for the rest of the day. Mayhaps go with Robb on their hunt.”

Rhaenys looked at him, her eyes narrowed at him, before turning to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Summer sat up when Robb, Jon and Rhaenys entered Bran’s room. Thankfully, Lady Catelyn was walking in the godswood with Lord Stark so they wouldn’t have to bother with her. Ghost and Grey Wind leapt up onto Bran’s bed and nosed a greeting to Summer.

“Do you need anything?” Robb questioned, watching as Rhaenys sat down on Bran’s bed, reaching out to lay a hand on Bran’s forehead.

“No. At least, I shouldn’t,” Rhaenys answered, closing her eyes in concentration. “He should be close to waking up but his legs… When I’m done, make sure he doesn’t move immediately. That would make him sick.”

“Alright, my lady,” Jon whispered.

“Jon, you’re my half brother,” Rhaenys retorted, her eyes still closed as she started to mutter words under her breath. “I think we’re past that title.”

Robb snorted. Jon glared at him. “Since when does he know?”

“Since I told him this morning.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys moved her hands over Bran’s body, hovering over his legs, the spells coming back to her as she spoke them. She had studied healing before she had died in her first life and now it was helping, seeing where Bran’s legs were paralyzed, where work needed to be done.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon watched his half sister do her work, moving her hands over his cousin’s… cousin. Robb, Sansa, Bran, Rickon and Arya were his cousins, not his half siblings. That would take some getting used to for him. When he heard Lady Catelyn’s voice coming down the hallway outside Bran’s room, he stiffened.

“Robb…” Jon trailed off, gesturing to the doorway.

Robb nodded, glancing to his lady wife then back to Jon. They both knew that out of the two of them, Robb would have the better chance of steering Catelyn away from Bran’s room. Then they heard Ser Oswell speak, asking Lady Catelyn about something.

Jon exchanged glances with Robb, both of them grinning. The three former knights of the kingsguard knew what Rhaenys was doing and knew that they were trying to keep Catelyn away. Oswell’s voice and Catelyn’s drew away, talking of preparations for Ned to go south.

A strangled yelp drew their attention to Rhaenys.

Robb froze and closed the distance to the bed, placing a hand on Rhaenys’ shoulder, squeezing lightly. “My lady?”

“I…”

Rhaenys trailed off.

 

* * *

 

_Winter is coming. You must send Bran Stark to me._

Rhaenys stilled. She had lightly touched Bran’s mind, seeing if he was close to waking, if he was ready, then a presence touched her mind through his. A cold presence. One that she had never felt in either of her lives. Ancient, cold, omniscient.

_Rhaenys Targaryen. The dragon that is of two lives. You must know. Send Bran to me._

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Robb? Rhaenys? Jon?”

Bran slowly blinked his eyes open, seeing his brother, his good-sister and his half brother all standing around his bed. Summer was at the foot of his bed, licking his foot. Grey Wind and Ghost were sitting with their brother, curled up together.

Rhaenys had a thoughtful look on her face, her purple eyes narrowed. Robb was standing next to her, his arm around her waist, almost like he was supporting her.

“Bran!” Jon exclaimed, grinning. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Good to see me?” Bran echoed, looking between his family. “What happened?”

Robb’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t remember what happened?”

Bran slowly shook his head. Summer whined quietly before nudging his nose into Bran’s fingers.

“You fell,” Rhaenys spoke, finally looking at him with an expression that Bran had never seen on her before. Her mind was definitely on other things, maybe dragon things Bran thought. “From the old tower? The one that you promised Lady Stark that you wouldn’t climb while the king and his entourage was here?”

“I fell?” Bran said, raising an eyebrow. “I never fall.”

“You don’t remember anything.” Rhaenys looked at him, watched him nod, before sighing. “We’d best go get Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark. She’ll be glad to see him awake.”

“Rhaenys?” Robb asked, his blue eyes worried. “Are you alright?”

“I think… I need to go to the Wall,” Rhaenys finally remarked after a few minutes of silence. Bran watched as she pulled her hair back with a tie, the horse tail of curly black hair messy and ruffled.

“To the Wall?” Robb said.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys nodded, her mind still reeling from the voice that she had heard through Bran. She felt Robb’s fingers on her hip tighten, pulling her closer to his side in worry.

“Why to the Wall?” Robb questioned. “It’s not--”

“If you were about to say it’s not safe for a lady to go--”

Robb grinned, shook his head. “You have dragons, Rhaenys. I was not about to say it’s not safe. You also have three sworn shields, one of whom is the deadliest in the seven kingdoms. And… you’ll have me too, if you really think we should go to the Wall.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Your Grace.”

Robert turned, seeing Ned walk towards him in the courtyard. He was followed by Lady Catelyn and Ser Rodrik, the master at arms of Winterfell. “Ned! Why the hold up?”

“I have decided to not go with you,” Ned spoke, his grey eyes tight with apprehension.

“What is this? You agreed to be my Hand,” Robert asked, watching as his lady wife stepped up into the wheelhouse along with their kids. Joffrey was already on his horse, smiling idly. “You cannot be like this.”

“Your Grace, I am needed here,” Ned replied, gesturing to the castle around them. “Winter is coming and I will need to help our bannermen prepare for it.”

“Winter is not coming soon, Ned. Gods damn your house motto. You are my oldest friend!”

Ned stayed right where he was. “Choose your brother to be your Hand. He will be much better suited to the position than I would be.”

“Ned, you’re respected in the capital. You’re the man who rode beside me in the war against Rhaegar,” Robert retorted, glancing beyond Ned to where Robb had left the keep. Rhaenys Stark was right next to Robb, her purple eyes almost daring him to make his next comment. “This is the dragonspawn’s doing, isn’t it?! Mark my words. She will bring down this castle with her very words.”

Rhaenys didn’t even flinch, the very image of an innocent lady wife to her lord husband. The men behind her though… The former knights of the kingsguard all dropped their hands to their blades, flanking Rhaenys and Robb. Robb’s direwolf let out a low growl, stood in the middle of the two.

“Your Grace, Stannis will be a very able Hand of the King. You can trust him,” Ned spoke, drawing Robert’s attention again. “I will continue being your loyal Warden of the North.”

Robert stared down at his friend then urged his horse out of the gate of Winterfell, not even noticing that they were down one knight of the kingsguard.

 

* * *

 

 

The dinner that evening was a low key affair, with just the Stark family in residence, it was quiet and happy. The news that Bran had woken up had spread throughout the keep and castle and with the king gone, it was just down to a quiet group.

Rhaenys jumped a little at her seat as she felt a warm body lean against her legs, this one a scaly body instead of furry. Her dragons had been overjoyed to be let out, had let out roars as loud as they could when she had let them out of her quarters. Aliandra had not left her side since the she-dragon had walked out, peering up at everyone suspiciously.

Her now four sworn shields stood at the two exits to the hall, two at each point. Ser Barristan had stood wide-eyed, staring at the dragons when she had introduced him to them. She rather thought that mayhaps Arthur or Oswell hadn’t said anything about them but the old knight had just shook his head fondly, glad to be back with his former brothers.

“Lord Stark?”

Eddard glanced up from his meal, turning to look at her. “Yes, Lady Rhaenys?”

“I am leaving to go to the Wall tomorrow,” Rhaenys said, her eyes narrowed in consideration.

Lord Stark peered at her, taking in her body language. She had been quiet ever since the king had left, taking a walk with Arya in the godswood alongside her dragons and Nymeria. Catelyn had been subtle about it but she had been grateful that Ned had chosen not to go. Sansa though… she had been beyond disappointed to not be going to court.

“Very well. Is there anything amiss?”

“I need to speak with my great-great-great uncle,” Rhaenys explained. “I have questions that are best answered in person, not by letter.”

Eddard’s eyes widened. “I had forgotten that Maester Aemon was a Targaryen. I believe your father often wrote Maester Aemon too. Alright. You will leave tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I will go with her, father,” Robb said. “I would like to see the Wall too.”

“I will too,” Jon spoke.

 

* * *

 

 

Arya watched as Jon, Robb, Rhaenys, Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold mounted their horses the next morning. The humans and horses were joined by two direwolves and three dragons, now unspelled and tall. The dragons reached up to the height of the horse’s stomachs, dangerous and deadly in their own right.

The keep and castle was now free of the rodent problem it was having, thanks to the presence of the dragons. Ned had also quietly asked one of the northern farmers around Winterfell to regularly sell them meat, several pounds of it since the dragons were eating a lot and growing quickly.

“Arya…” Rhaenys trailed off, looking down at her. “Look after Balerion for me?”

Arya rolled her eyes but nodded. “Balerion only lets you near him but I’ll do my best.”

Rhaenys stared at her before nodding, looking over to where Lord Stark was standing. “Any message you want us to deliver?”

“Say hi to Benjen,” Lord Stark replied, his eyes narrowed. “Lord Tyrion went to the Wall with the king too so be wary.”

“We will, father,” Robb said.

“I rather had a good feeling about Tyrion,” Rhaenys remarked, shrugging a little before turning her horse towards the gate. Lyandra, Aliandra and Morgana squealed out and ran ahead with…

Arya watched, her eyes widening, as Aliandra took to the air with a few swoops of her wings. Rhaenys stopped her horse and watched too, her purple eyes wide, as the two other dragons took to the air too. Some of the horses in the courtyard spooked, whinnying in fright before being calmed down by their riders or by the stablemaster.

“Amazing,” Robb trailed off, his eyes on the dragons. “I didn’t know they would be able to fly this fast.”

“They are almost four months old,” Rhaenys spoke, grinning widely before urging her horse through the gate. The dragons circled above, almost like they were getting used to being able to be in the air, being free. “Lily!”

The red dragon called out, roaring loudly, before swooping down, landing on the gatehouse and scaring the Stark guardsmen on top of it. A few men dropped their hands to their blades before slowly relaxing when the dragon didn’t do anything untowards.

Rhaenys laughed and cantered out through the gate of Winterfell, her dragons flying above the group.

 

* * *

 

 

As they passed through various small villages, Rhaenys urged her dragons to stay hidden, stay in the air. The three dragons looked like birds as they climbed into the air, into the sky, looping between the clouds playfully. A lot of the people who lived in the villages knew who she was and they definitely knew who Robb was, along with Jon. They knew that Rhaenys and Robb had been married only a week ago.

The smallfolk stayed away from Ghost and Grey Wind but bowed to Robb as he passed them. They stayed at a small inn one night, with their presence being the talk of the town. Rhaenys shared a bed with Robb, waking up to a kiss on her forehead.

She looked into Robb’s eyes, smiled slightly, leaned into him and rocked a little. Robb gasped, his eyes going wide with arousal. Rhaenys grinned at his heated look and startled a little as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him, bucking up a little.

Rhaenys inhaled sharply, her body alive with pleasure, dropped her hands down to his bare chest. Robb stared up at her, his eyes soft with admiration and fondness and mayhaps the beginning of love.

 

* * *

 

Jeor Mormont looked out through the gap in the gate to see a group of horses and their riders coming towards Castle Black. Ahead of the group was Robb Stark and his new lady wife, Rhaenys Stark née Targaryen. Jon Snow, Lord Stark’s bastard was behind them, with two direwolves trotting alongside.

The four men behind them were Stark bannermen, until Jeor looked closer. His eyes widened at the sight of the four former kingsguard. He had met with Ser Arthur once or twice over the years but to see all four men… was quite something. He was not expecting Ser Barristan though.

“Open the gates,” Jeor called back, noting that Samwell Tarly, their newest recruit, had fallen onto the dirt ground again. The late morning sun shone on the castle, making the light breeze warm.

The gate creaked open and Ser Alliser Thorne walked over to stand beside him. “Isn’t that Lord Stark’s heir?”

“It is.”

Jeor watched as the party walked in, stopping their horses and dismounting. The two direwolves prowled around the courtyard, sniffing everything and occasionally growling.

Rhaenys Stark walked over to him, stopping in front of him. The former knights of the kingsguard flanked her while Jeor saw Jon past them out of the corner of his eyes. “Lord Commander.”

“Lady Stark. To what do we owe your visit to?”

“I want to meet with my old uncle,” Rhaenys remarked, looking around the keep. “I have some questions that need to be answered.”

“Your old uncle?” Jeor repeated, gesturing her up a flight of stairs to his office. Rhaenys and Robb followed, along with one direwolf and four knights.

“Maester Aemon,” Rhaenys explained. “You had a deserter a few months ago, correct?”

“We did. You would know just as much about that business as we do,” Jeor replied, as they walked into his office. Two of the former kingsguard stayed at the door while the other two flanked Robb and Rhaenys. “He was talking nonsense when he ran.”

Rhaenys nodded.

“How often do you have deserters?” Robb asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not very often. Three or four per year and as of now, no one deserter was talking nonsense like he was. The White Walkers haven’t been seen in thousands of years.”

Rhaenys had asked Robb what the deserter had spoken of on the ride over. Her dreams came back to her, flashes of icy blue eyes. She shivered before turning her attention back to the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. “Where is the maester’s quarters?”

“He usually works in his tower,” Jeor answered, pointing out the lone window towards the tower to the west. “That is where the ravens are kept and where his library is. Are you planning on staying the night?”

“Yes,” Robb spoke. “Jon and I wanted to see the Wall. Rhaenys wanted to talk to her great uncle.”

“Lady Stark,” Jeor said, a note of warning in his tone.

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow.

“Lord Tyrion Lannister is also here,” Jeor offered. “Be wary.”

“I heard. I’ll be careful.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Maester?”

Rhaenys hesitantly knocked on the open door in front of her, the caws of crows meeting her ears as she entered.

“Yes, my dear. Come in.”

Rhaenys entered, seeing Maester Aemon sitting down at the table at the far end of the room, reading a book. Aemon peered up at her, or rather, a space near her head. He was blind, that much she knew.

“There are not many women who come into Castle Black,” Aemon remarked, his voice gravely and old.

“I…” Rhaenys trailed off then steadied herself when she saw Robb coming up the stairs to the tower. Robb had stayed behind to see what Jon was up to. “Not many are Targaryens too, I suppose.”

Aemon froze, haphazardly standing up. “Rhaenys?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Rhaenys took a step closer, standing in front of the table. “I’m sorry about--”

“My dear, do not worry about not coming to see me,” Aemon whispered, taking a step and Rhaenys closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms gently about Aemon. Her great-great-great uncle. “Not many people know that I am a Targaryen. I am glad you came today. I would like to hear everything.”

Rhaenys smiled wearily, helping Aemon to sit back down again after they pulled apart. “I married Robb Stark. I don’t know if you heard…”

“I did. Do you like him?”

Rhaenys knew Robb was at the door, Grey Wind at his feet, when she replied. “I do. I might be falling in love with him.”

Aemon looked at her, his milky white eyes blank, but his lips twitched up into a small smile. “That is good to hear. And what is it that I hear of direwolves south of the wall?”

Robb walked in, stopping beside Rhaenys, his eyes soft. “We found six direwolves in the wolfswood on the way back from dealing with the deserter. Now each of my siblings and Jon have a wolf.”

“Robb Stark. Treat my great-great-great niece well.”

“Yes, Maester Aemon. I plan on it.”

“Aemon…” Rhaenys trailed off, stroking Grey Wind’s ears as the wolf came up to her, placed his head on her lap.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I also… hatched three dragons.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aemon gasped. “You hatched dragons?”

“Yes. There are three dragons alive in Westeros now. They stayed back a ways before the castle.”

Aemon stared at her, unseeing, but thinking. “How did you do it?”

“Fire and Blood. That’s our motto. I shed some of my blood and lit the eggs on fire.”

“Do you think you could… No, it’s too dangerous. What are their names?”

“Aliandra, for my mother's house. Lyandra. Morgana. They’re red, silver and lilac. They’re about four months old and they can fly.”

Aemon sighed wistfully. “If only your father had seen this. Rhaegar and I often wrote each other. He knew one child of his was to be the Prince That Was Promised.”

“Wasn’t Rhaegar thought to be the Prince of the prophecy?” Robb questioned, exchanging a glance with Rhaenys.

“He was, for a time,” Aemon replied. “He believed that it would be his son. Mayhaps it’s you.”

Rhaenys froze. “What.”

“Valyrian pronouns can be interchangeable,” Aemon explained thoughtfully. “The Prince could be a Princess. The Pact of Ice and Fire. It finally came through.”

“Hmm?” Rhaenys spoke.

“During the Dance of the Dragons, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon went to the Starks to gain their men for his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. In return for their backing, a princess of House Targaryen would marry a Stark. The Pact of Ice and Fire. It never came to fruition until now.”

“Well, I was a hostage. I don’t think that counts.”

“It does, despite the fact that our house is in exile. What of your mother’s house? Do they know of you?” Aemon questioned.

Rhaenys shook her head then remembered that Aemon couldn’t see her. “I want to go to Dorne sometime soon. Aemon, I did come here for a specific reason, not just to say hi.”

“Ask away.”

“I… I was healing Bran,” Rhaenys started hesitantly. “I’ve been taking lessons with Maester Luwin but I… I heard a voice in my mind.”

Aemon blinked. “My dear?”

“Rhaenys?” Robb asked, taking a step to close the distance between them and reaching out entwine their fingers together. “That’s why you startled while healing Bran.”

“You believe me?”

“I would be stupid not to,” Robb answered, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “What did this voice sound like?”

“It sounded cold, ancient and male. It also… knew me, knew of me. It also said that winter was coming.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed.

Aemon stared at her, his hand dropping to the book on the table. “Did you recognize the voice?”

“No. But it seemed to be coming from North of the Wall.”

“Hmm…” Aemon trailed off.

“The voice also said… to send Bran Stark to him.”

“Send Bran to him?” Robb repeated. “What does your voice know of Bran?”

“I don’t know. If I knew I wouldn’t be asking Maester Aemon,” Rhaenys grumbled. “I’m not all knowing just because I hatched dragons.”

Robb let out a small huff of laughter, laying a kiss on her forehead. “I didn’t think you were, my lady.”

Rhaenys muttered something under her breath about Starks and Robb grinned.

“It sounds like… It can’t be him though. He disappeared beyond the wall several years ago,” Aemon remarked.

“Him? You know who it could be?” Rhaenys questioned.

“Lord Bloodraven,” Aemon said thoughtfully.

At their questioning silence, Aemon explained. “He was one of the Great Bastards. Lord Brynden Rivers. He became Lord Commander in 239AC and disappeared past the Wall in 252AC. People used to say that he had a thousand eyes.”

“How would he be able to speak to me, to Bran? I did see a crow but I don’t know if that is connected.”

Aemon dipped his head in a nod. “The three eyed crow. There is a book about the creature somewhere. It is a legend, just like the children of the forest. My dear… Are you planning on taking the throne?”

Rhaenys started, her eyes widening. “No, of course not! Why do you ask?”

“According to Dornish customs, you would be the heir to the throne. They do not care if the first born is a girl or boy. And you were Rhaegar’s first born, if I recall correctly.”

Rhaenys stared at Aemon, feeling Robb stare at her too. “No. I don’t have any urge to take the throne. Even with my dragons.”

Aemon nodded. “What of your aunt and uncle? Have you heard anything of them?”

“I…”

A crow interrupted what she had been about to say, the bird flying into the rookery. Aemon stood up on shaky legs and retrieved the letter attached to its leg. He walked over towards them, held the letter out towards Rhaenys. She took it, glanced at Aemon, before opening it. "It says that Stannis has been elected to be Hand for his brother.”

"Lord Stark stayed in Winterfell then?" Aemon questioned.

“Rhaenys talked him into staying in the North,” Robb remarked. “We are all grateful for that.”

Aemon grinned. “You are the true daughter of Rhaegar and Elia. I suspect the realm will see good things of you, Rhaenys Targaryen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the dragon size, think something a little smaller than GoT S3 but not by much.


	11. Chapter 11

“Lady Stark.”

Tyrion peered up at Rhaenys Targaryen, as she walked over to the lift that would take them up to the top of the Wall. Her purple eyes narrowed in thought before looked at him in question. She had on the Stark cloak over a thick tunic and leggings and at her feet was a direwolf. Not the white animal but the other one with grey fur and yellow eyes. It was probably Robb’s direwolf, Grey Wind, Tyrion thought.

“Tyrion. I heard you had come to the Wall. Was it for business?”

Tyrion snorted, shook his head, watching as the overweight boy in the lift opened the doors for them. Robb Stark and Jon Snow, along with the other direwolf, walked up to them, also joining them as the two walked into the lift. Ser Arthur also joined them, leaving the three other sworn shields in the castle.

“Robert doesn’t much care for the North, my lady,” Tyrion remarked, as the boy of the Night’s Watch closed the lift doors and the lift slowly pulled them up. “They think the North is full of grumpkins and snarks.”

Rhaenys stared at him then glanced to Robb and Jon. “Mayhaps there is more to the the lands beyond the Wall than just imaginary creatures. The Night’s Watch used to guard against more threats.”

“Your dreams,” Robb spoke, looking at Rhaenys and then down at Tyrion. “Maester Aemon believes that there are more things to fear. Are the people in the south unaware of this?”

“The people in the South are forgetful,” Tyrion offered, studying Rhaenys and pondering a few books he had read in Casterly Rock. He had come across one book that mentioned Targaryens having dragon dreams. He wondered if that was what Robb had spoken of. “They are also so far removed from the North that they do not care.”

“I had thought that the Night’s Watch was going to be made of important knights and men,” Jon added, glancing to the boy in the lift with them. “No offense meant to you, Sam.”

“None taken,” Sam returned, glancing at five people and two direwolves in the lift with them.

“Sam?” Rhaenys echoed, looking over at him too.

“Samwell, of House Tarly, my lady. I am to take my vows in a few weeks, if I’m still alive by then.”

“How many men guard the Wall these days?” Rhaenys questioned, looking at Sam curiously. “Surely there are more at the other castles.”

“We do have much less men these days,” Sam said, sighing. “Maester Aemon said that there’s a 600 here at Castle Black and only a few hundred at Shadowtower and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.”

Tyrion watched as Rhaenys frowned, glanced out of the lift and up towards the top. They were nearly there and Tyrion looked forward to finally seeing over the Wall.

“There were ten thousand when Aegon the Conqueror sat the throne,” Robb remarked, looking to Sam, Jon and Rhaenys in turn. “Isn’t there a recruiter for the Night’s Watch?”

“Yoren. He’s due back from King’s Landing in the next few months,” Sam confirmed, as they reached the top. “Hopefully, there are a lot of criminals in the capital’s dungeons.”

“Criminals?”

“That’s what the Night’s Watch is made of now,” Sam replied, looking at Robb and Jon.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys gasped when they stepped out of the lift and walked over to what was almost the edge of the Wall. “It’s beautiful.”

Robb stood next to her and Grey Wind was between them, sniffing the air. “It is. I am glad I came with you, my lady.”

Rhaenys rolled her eyes at Robb’s title for her. “I like dragon girl better.”

Robb grinned and wrapped an arm around her. “Only when we’re in private.”

The lands beyond the Wall were beautiful, in a kind of eerie way. There was a long forested area just a mile or two off the Wall and then there was just snow and ice. The Frostfangs were hundreds of miles still to the North and then lay the Land of Always Winter. The winds that had buffeted them as they went up had been silenced on the top, making it quiet except for Grey Wind’s breathing.

“I think Jon’s taken a liking to being at the Wall,” Robb remarked a few minutes later, turning to look at her. “Not enough to take their vows but enough to stay on.”

“I wouldn’t object to him staying. It’s not like I have sway over him. We’re not betrothed like the old Targaryen way.”

“So our children won’t have to marry each other then?”

“Robb. What are you implying?” Rhaenys turned, studying her husband.

“You should be Queen.”

Rhaenys stared, her eyes widening and her heart speeding up. “What.”

“I don’t think you were just meant to be a lady of Winterfell,” Robb spoke quietly, curling an arm around her neck and bringing her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You hatched dragons.”

“I say again, just because I hatched dragons does not mean I know everything.”

Ser Arthur coughed behind a hand and Rhaenys glared at him, crossing her arms and pulling apart from Robb to glare at him too.

“You seem to know a lot about somethings,” Robb offered.

“I’ve never wanted the throne though.” Rhaenys glanced out beyond the Wall, looking out and extending her magic a little into the Wall. She had felt the innate magic of the Wall yesterday even before they had entered Castle Black.

“You would be my consort. King consort.”

Robb dipped his head in a nod. “I would bear it, for you.”

“King’s Landing is where my mother and brother died,” Rhaenys whispered, ducking into Robb’s arms as he pulled her in again. “It’s full of bad memories.”

“We could make good memories.”

Rhaenys grimaced, poking Robb in the shoulder. “We would not be having sex everywhere.”

“I was japing.”

“Sure you were,” Rhaenys retorted, dropping a kiss on Robb’s collarbone.

Robb shivered and tipped her chin up with a finger, their mouths meeting.

 

* * *

 

 

One thing led to another and the seven of them stayed at Castle Black for a month. Tyrion stayed for two weeks, watching as the men of the Night’s Watch went about their work. Rhaenys took the time to ponder what Robb had said, thinking about King Robert’s rule. She wondered how Stannis Baratheon was getting on as the new Hand of the King.

She had not had a good impression of King Robert when he had visited Winterfell a few weeks ago. The king had not spoken of her by name, just calling her ‘dragonspawn’. From what she had heard of the king, he had spent so much money on a tourney for the new Hand of the King, despite Stannis’ wishes.

Rhaenys remembered the Rebellion, thinking on just why Robert had started the war in the first place. He had been thinking with his cock, instead of fighting a war to replace a mad king. It had been fighting a war for a woman first and foremost.

Lady Catelyn wrote to them, saying that she was going to go visit her sister in the Vale. Sansa would be going too, bringing Lady and Jeyne Poole with her. The Rangers went out on patrol once during the month, just this week and brought back the remains of a ranging party. One that Benjen Stark went on.

Rhaenys watched as Tyrion mounted his horse, leaving after three weeks at the Wall. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont stood next to her, a quiet presence.

“Tyrion?”

Tyrion turned his horse to look back at her, raised an eyebrow. “My lady?”

“Say hi to your brother for me?”

Tyrion blinked but nodded, looking her over with a new interest. “I will.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys glanced towards the south, from the gate of Castle Black that night. It was a black night, with the clouds in the sky, the only light was from the moon and the torches around the keep. Jon was in the big hall with Sam and a few others of the Night’s Watch. Robb was already in their room, getting ready for bed. Her three dragons had roamed the Gift while they were here, keeping themselves hidden enough that they weren’t seen. She glanced back into the castle, looking up into the maester’s tower where the torchlight was still on.

The flapping of wings announced Aliandra’s presence and Rhaenys watched as the red dragon walked towards her, bigger than she had been just a month ago. Now the dragon was the size of a pony, a good sized pony.

“Hey, girl,” Rhaenys whispered, reaching out to let the dragon come to her.

Aliandra let out a huff of breath, a hint of fire coming out from her mouth. Rhaenys smiled, stroked the dragon’s snout. “Come on. I want to show you to someone. He’s a Targaryen, just like me.”

Aliandra let out a questioning noise but followed her nonetheless as they walked through the keep and up the stairs to Aemon’s tower. She quietly knocked on the door, nudging it open at Maester Aemon’s call.

The clicking of Aliandra’s wing-claws drew Aemon’s attention immediately.

“Rhaenys? Did you bring a cat in here?”

She walked over to stand in front of Aemon, gesturing for Aliandra to come closer, and gently grasped her great-great uncle’s hand. She slowly brought his hand to lay on top of Aliandra’s wing and Aemon let out a strangled gasp.

“Rhaenys…”

“Her name is Aliandra.”

Aemon stared down at the dragon before him, his knowledge showing him what his eyes could not. Aliandra flexed her body but stayed still, seeming to know that one of her kin was touching her. “A dragon. Fire made flesh.”

“You spoke before of the Prince Who was Promised.”

“Yes, I did. I thought it might be you.”

“It could also be Jon.”

“Jon? Ned Stark’s bastard?”

“He’s not Lord Stark’s child though he does have Stark blood in him.”

Aemon blinked, opening and closing his mouth before speaking. “He is your half brother, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Half Stark, half Targaryen.”

A commotion drew their attention over to the east side of the castle and Rhaenys stilled, hearing shouts and yells. A howl came from Grey Wind and she looked to Aemon.

“Go, my dear. They might very well need you and your dragon.”

Rhaenys ran out of the tower, Aliandra and Ser Barristan following her. The commotion was over by the Lord Commander’s quarters and she could see Jon and Ghost trying to get in. Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold came quickly with Robb and they all stopped in front of the Lord Commander’s door. She could hear gasps from the men and boys of the Night’s Watch, hear whispering about the dragon but she paid it no mind.

“Jon?”

“There’s something in there,” Jon muttered. “Ghost’s been scratching at the door for the past five minutes.”

“Stand back,” Rhaenys whispered and just as they all stood back, even Ghost, she felt the Elder wand once again slip into her palm. Her magic lifted the door, moved it aside, and they all raced in only to stop when they saw what awaited them.

It was one of the dead men that the ranger patrol had found. The dead man was pale, no color on his face or nearly half naked body. Ghost and Grey Wind leapt to attack, ripping off both of the man’s hands. And yet the man kept moving, not even reacting to the pain. It was only the knowledge that this man had been dead a few hours ago that kept everyone frozen except Jon and her shadows.

All four of them drew their blades, surrounding her.

Rhaenys was seeing her dreams come true. Aliandra growled, smoke coming from her mouth. She glanced down at the dragon then up to where Ser Arthur had impaled the creature with Dawn. The creature again didn’t react, moving towards them with scary deadliness. Grey Wind howled and charged again only to get swatted away by an handless arm, landing with a thunk against the opposite stone wall. The wolf howled in pain and Rhaenys steeled herself, looking right into the creature’s eyes and whispered the Valyrian word for dragonfire.

“Dracarys!”

“Jon! Out of the way! Now!”

Just as Aliandra opened her mouth, Jon jumped out of the way, rolling to the side. Ghost moved too, taking a running leap back to safety. Aliandra let out a cloud of red flame right at the creature, lighting it on fire. The creature howled and the scent of burning flesh filled the air.

Rhaenys, Jon, Robb, Arthur, Gerold, Oswell, and Barristan all watched as the creature keeled over, still on fire, but dead. Deader than it had been.

“What in the seven hells was that?”

They all turned to look as Jeor Mormont stepped through the door to his bedroom, his eyes wide.

“That… That was a wight.”

Jeor stared, his face going pale.

Rhaenys stroked Aliandra’s neck, before going over to see if Grey Wind was okay. Robb was already at the wolf’s side, checking him over. Rhaenys knelt, placing a hand on Grey Wind’s head and extending her magic, checking for injury.

“He’ll be okay,” Rhaenys whispered, glancing into the wolf’s eyes. Grey Wind’s yellow eyes were a little dull with shock but he licked her face just the same. She grinned wearily and stood up, glancing back out of the rooms, seeing the various men and boys staring at Aliandra.

“Your secret’s out,” Jeor remarked. “I don’t have anything against dragons, now that one helped to save my life.”

“The deserter was telling the truth,” Robb whispered, gesturing to the dead man on the stone floor. “He did see a White Walker.”

Rhaenys nodded.

“And Tyrion said that the South wouldn’t believe it,” Robb continued, stepping out of the room with Rhaenys. They all backed out of the Lord Commander’s rooms and Robb exchanged uneasy glances with Rhaenys. “The North will need all the help we can get in the coming months.”

“I believe it is finally time to go visit my uncles,” Rhaenys finally spoke, her eyes still on the wight beneath them.

“Hmm?”

“Uncle Oberyn and Doran in Dorne. I think they think I am dead.”

“King Robert’s will?” Jon questioned.

“The very same. Jon, may I ask a favor of you?” Rhaenys turned to her half brother, raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to stay here and keep an eye on things. I will,” Jon said, turning to look at Lord Commander Mormont. “Assuming the Lord Commander would keep me around.”

“You are not Lord Stark’s child, are you?” Jeor asked, turning to look at them.

“No,” Jon replied, reaching out to grasp Rhaenys’ shoulder. “Take Arya with you to Dorne. She’ll enjoy it.”

Rhaenys smiled and nodded. “I do believe she would.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Here.”

Jon looked up at Rhaenys as his half sister finished packing the next morning. She was holding out a small hand held mirror to him, looking at him expectantly. He raised an eyebrow but took the mirror, a circular piece of glass on a piece of metal.

“Thanks?”

Rhaenys rolled her eyes. “We can communicate faster with these. Just say my name. I have another one, that’s spelled to connect with yours.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “You mean…”

“Consider them like magical ravens except not?” Rhaenys tried to explain, her eyes drawn in thought. “It’s unbreakable and should go back to you, if you lose it.”

Jon peered up down at the mirror then tucked it into a pocket. “Thanks. Do you really… think that the Others are… back?”

Rhaenys sighed, sitting down on the bed that Jon was sitting on. “I hope not. The wight we saw and my dreams… would say differently though.”

Jon looked out through the open door of his room to see Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold standing in the entryway. Rhaenys’ sworn shields were all packed, their horses already saddled.

“Take care of my sister?”

“We will,” Arthur answered, his blue eyes staring at him in concern. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us with you?”

“I have Ghost,” Jon said, looking briefly at the white direwolf at his feet. “He should be enough to keep me safe.”

“I could have one of the dragons stay with you,” Rhaenys offered.

Jon’s eyes widened.

“Morgana or Lyandra, perhaps. Lyandra does seem to be taking a liking to you and the wight did seem to go down with dragonflame.”

“They’re your dragons, Rhaenys. They should stay with you. Besides, you’re going to Dorne. None of them have seemed to take to me anyway.”

“Fine. Mayhaps…” Rhaenys trailed off, glancing at her sworn shields. “Aemon mentioned my aunt and uncle. Have we heard anything from them?”

Ser Barristan’s eyes narrowed as he dipped his head in a slight nod. “King Robert had said something about ordering their deaths. I heard the king and your foster father talking too, about your aunt marrying a khal.”

“Khal?” Rhaenys echoed.

“Leader of a Dothraki horde,” Arthur explained.

“Well, at least we know she’s alive,” Rhaenys said, standing up and pacing. “I should send them a letter. Maybe even send a ship to carry them back to Westeros. You four were around Viserys, weren’t you?”

The four of them exchanged glances before Arthur nodded. “We were. Viserys did spend a while knowing your grandfather though.”

“Queen Rhaella did try to shield him from the king,” Ser Gerold added, his eyes following her. “I do not know how successful she was.”

Rhaenys nodded before stopping and glancing outside.

“At the very least I’ll send Daenerys a letter,” Rhaenys finally spoke, tentative but steady.

Jon stood up, looking at Rhaenys. His sister was just about to take a step outside when her eyes widened, her gaze going to her stomach.

“Rhaenys?”

Rhaenys grinned, her purple eyes lit up with excitement. “I forgot! I might… I think I’m pregnant!”

 

* * *

 

 

Samwell Tarly looked up at Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, watched as he addressed everyone in the castle. Rhaenys Targaryen and Robb Stark were standing beside the Lord Commander, with Rhaenys’ sworn shields standing behind her. The grey direwolf was flanking Robb and the dragon, the red dragon, was standing beside Rhaenys. Everyone was staring at the dragon, the dragon that was the size of a big pony, its’ wings spread out like it was about to take flight.

Two more dragons flew above the castle, occasionally growling and crying out. The silver dragon came in for a landing, circling and landed on the dirt ground with a soft thump, right behind Jon. Sam saw Jon's eyes widen, his shoulders stiffening. The dragon lowered its' head to sniff at Jon then leaned into him, pressing its' muzzle against him. Jon sighed, closing his eyes briefly before reaching out a hand to lay on the dragon's hide.

"Jon?" Sam whispered, seeing more and more of his brothers turn to look at them.

"It's meant to be kept quiet," Jon murmured back, looking at the dragon next to him. "Lyandra."

The dragon rumbled deep in its' throat and let Jon's hand touch her.

"Are you..."

"I'm the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna," Jon replied, glancing at Sam before looking up at his sister. Rhaenys was grinning, her lips twitched up into a knowing smile.

Sam's eyes widened.

“We do not take part in wars in the south,” Jeor remarked, looking at everyone.

Sam turned to look at Jon Snow, Lord Stark’s bastard, as Jon looked at him. Ghost, the white direwolf, was standing at Jon’s side.

“Are you staying?” Sam asked quietly, peering up at the maester’s tower as he saw Aemon come down from it.

“Yes, I am. Lord Commander Jeor approved of my presence,” Jon whispered, his grey eyes narrowed. “My sister is going south to request aid.”

“Arya Stark?”

Jon shook his head. “Rhaenys Targaryen is my half sister.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he glanced up to where Rhaenys was standing. The Targaryen princess looked lost in thought, her purple eyes narrowed and her long, black, curly hair back in a braid. The Stark cloak was tight around her shoulders and Sam watched as she dropped a hand down onto the dragon’s warm body. Or at least Sam figured they were warm creatures. He hadn’t seen the dragon shiver yet this morning or late evening.

Jon stared at him but nodded slightly. “Yes. I’m still… I just learned about it a month ago.”

“That must be quite something to learn.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jon replied, his lips twitching up into a small frown as Lyandra stayed where she was, the big dragon half curling around him.

“... I would request that no one speak of the dragons for a few months,” Rhaenys spoke out, after Jeor finished talking. She looked out over the assembled crowd of men, eying each one and staring at Jon and Sam briefly before moving on. “It would put the North and Winterfell in danger and I do not want that.”

“Are you going to take the throne?”

Sam looked over at Grenn, the boy who had called out, then looked up to Rhaenys to see her answer.

Rhaenys turned to look at Grenn too, raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps. The Dornish certainly would have made me the heir to the throne, if my father had lived.”

Sam blinked and exchanged glances with Jon, whose eyes had widened a little. “Did you know?”

“I knew she has been thinking about it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys mounted up on her horse, watched as Robb and her sworn shields did too. They were leaving, heading back to Winterfell and then to White Harbor to board a ship for Dorne. It would take a month at minimum and mayhaps as long as two months to get to Dorne. With the need for secrecy, they would need to go around Dragonstone and the bay.

Morgana and Aliandra flew above them and sped out of the castle, due south. Lyandra was staying with Jon, having claimed him as her rider. Rhaenys had had to keep a neutral expression on her face while Lord Jeor had talked but seeing Lyandra curling around Jon had almost brought a laugh out of her.

Jon and Ghost were standing at the gate, with the boy of the Night’s Watch, Sam with him. Lyandra was flying above the castle, keeping an eye on her rider from above. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont was standing beside the two, his hand on his belt.

“Jon will be okay,” Robb spoke, as they both turned and urged their horses forward through the gate. Grey Wind followed them, running between their two horses.

“I know he will. He’s my brother,” Rhaenys whispered, glancing back to Arthur, Barristan, Oswell and Gerold before turning to look at Robb beside her. “Robb…”

He turned to look at her, raised an eyebrow. His Tully blue eyes looked at her with so much affection in them and she grinned.

“I’m pregnant. My moon blood didn’t come this month.”

Robb’s eyes widened as he stared at her. Rhaenys stared at him, her eyes narrowing. Robb finally urged his horse right next to her’s and held out his hand. She grasped his, feeling him squeeze tightly.

“We’re going to have a babe,” Robb whispered, looking at her in awe.

“Yes.”

“Do they know?” Robb asked, gesturing to her shadows.

“We know,” Arthur called out teasingly. “We’re very proud.”

Rhaenys groaned, bringing her other hand to her forehead. “They know.”

Robb laughed out loud as they heard an oomph. They turned in their saddles as one to see Oswell looking innocent and Arthur grinning widely.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jon Snow.”

Ser Alliser Thorne walked past him on the way to the Lord Commander’s office and Jon grimaced as soon as the man couldn’t see him. Sam had said that Ser Alliser wasn’t someone to make unhappy seeing as the man was the master at arms.

Jon sighed and stopped as soon as he reached his destination, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

Lord Commander Mormont stood at his desk, a gleaming sword in his hands. He looked up at Jon as he entered and nodded.

“Your sister has left?”

“She has. She took the dragons with her too, in case you were going to ask.”

Jeor took in a deep breath and let it out, sighing in what looked like relief. “Dragons. I see you have one of your own.”

“They are gorgeous beasts,” Jon remarked, sighing as Lyandra roared out above them. She was sitting on one of the more sturdy walls of the castle.

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose,” Jeor said, glancing down at the sword in his hands. “Here, I want you to have this. It’s name is Longclaw.”

Jon stared at him, watched as Jeor Mormont handed the sword over. “My lord?”

“You were the one that saw that something was wrong in the first place.”

“That was my wolf,” Jon started, staring down at the sword. “I only paid attention to what Ghost was trying to say.”

“And for that you have my thanks,” Lord Commander Mormont replied. “Take it. I had it remade for you.”

Jon hesitated only a few seconds before taking the piece of metal, his eyes roving over it. It had a wolf’s head for a hilt but the crossguard looked to be silver flame, something akin to Dark Sister, the blade that his sister had. Though Dark Sister had golden flame for the crossguard, not silver.

“You know?”

Jeor Mormont nodded. “You’re Rhaegar Targaryen’s son, aren’t you?”

Jon peered down at the sword in his hands. “Yes.”

“Rhaenys’ brother. A wolf and a dragon.”

 

* * *

 

 

A week later they were back in Winterfell. Bran raced out to greet them, his grey eyes wide with joy. Summer was at his heels, the direwolf yipping in excitement at seeing one of his packmates again. Grey Wind howled and raced over to him. Rickon and Shaggydog raced out too, a wide grin on the youngest Stark’s face.

Robb laughed as Bran sped over to him. “Bran! You’re looking well.”

Rhaenys dismounted from her horse and grinned, seeing Lord Stark coming out to greet them too. Arya was with her father and all three Starks all looked on in wonder as the dragons came in for a landing.

“They’re flying now,” Lord Eddard Stark remarked, watching as the red one flew down and landed next to Rhaenys. "You're down one."

“Yes. They started to fly about a month into our stay at Castle Black,” Rhaenys spoke, watching as Bran raced about the courtyard, showing that his legs were back to normal, that he could run if he wanted to. "And Lyandra took a liking to Jon."

“Maester Aemon sent a raven,” Lord Stark said as Robb came over to stand next to Rhaenys. His son looked happy, happier than he had when they had left. “I see you want to go to Dorne?”

“The North will need assistance in the coming years, Lord Stark,” Rhaenys explained quietly. “And where better to get it than Dorne?”

“Assistance?”

“A wight attacked the castle,” Robb said, grimacing at something, mayhaps a memory. “A wight. The tales are true, of the Long Night.”

Eddard stared at Rhaenys and Robb.

“Aliandra put it to flame,” Rhaenys continued, stroking the dragon’s flank. Aliandra growled at something, something only the dragon knew and Eddard remembered the stories of the old Targaryen dragons. Of how the dragons bonded with their riders. “Dragonflame was the only thing that harmed it. Regular fire would too, I suspect.”

“What the deserter said was true, father,” Robb added, his eyes dark for a moment. “The man really did see an Other.”

“I will send a raven to White Harbor to expect you,” Eddard said. “They will prepare a ship for you.”

“Ooh, can I go to Dorne too? Can I, father?” Arya questioned, her eyes lighting up at the thought. “They teach girls how to fight there, don’t they? Can I go?”

“Jon mentioned that you should come with us,” Rhaenys spoke, smiling a little.

Arya peered up at Eddard, her eyes pleading.

“Alright. Very well. You can go.”

Arya whooped out in glee and Eddard watched her race over to the stables, probably to tell one of her friends.

“Are you going as well?” Eddard asked, turning to look at Robb.

“Yes, I am. We heard that Lord Stannis is the king’s new Hand?” Robb questioned, looking at Rhaenys briefly.

“Lord Stannis, yes. He will be taking the position. Is there more news you have for me?”

“Uncle Benjen’s gone missing,” Robb said, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Hmm.”

“I’m pregnant,” Rhaenys offered finally as Eddard stared between them.

“Oh? That is good news. Your good mother and sister have gone to visit Lady Lysa Arryn at the Vale. That is why it is so quiet here,” Eddard commented, watching as Aliandra, the red dragon, took a few sweeps of her wings and hefted up into the air. “Where’s Jon?”

“I asked him to stay at the Wall,” Rhaenys said, rubbing her stomach a little. “To keep an eye on it.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, Rhaenys, Robb, Theon, and Arya left through the gate of Winterfell, bound for White Harbor. Eddard watched them go, watched as Rhaenys’ sworn shields followed the three of them. Two direwolves and two dragons followed them. Nymeria, Grey Wind, Aliandra, and Morgana. Dragons and direwolves.


	13. Chapter 13

The dragons were initially hesitant about getting on the ship at White Harbor but they came to enjoy flying up and diving into the sea to grab fish. The Stark banner flapped in the wind above them during the journey to Dorne, keeping the Targaryen and dragons aboard the ship secret. The ship’s captain, a knight of House Manderly, was very cautious about having two dragons and two direwolves aboard but he had since grown more comfortable around the creatures.

It was two weeks into their journey that they finally found themselves in the Sea of Dorne, about to turn up dock in the small harbor before Sunspear. Rhaenys took to pacing on the deck of the ship, watching as Arya talked with one of the sailors, a boy her own age. Arya had quickly made friends with the sailors and was very much enjoying the trip.

The sun was just rising on the horizon and Rhaenys had to shield her eyes from the light. Aliandra roared out from her position on the bow of the ship, causing the sailors to flinch a little. She grinned a little and turned to look off the ship to where Morgana had just dived into the water, coming out with a fish in her claws.

The lavender dragon threw the fish up into the air, let lose a pillow of fire. As the fish burned and fell, Aliandra flipped over in the air and caught it, munching away.

Arms came around her and Rhaenys leaned back into Robb’s arms, feeling him place a kiss at her neck.

“You’re nervous,” Robb whispered.

“They’re my uncles,” Rhaenys retorted, enjoying the warmth coming from her husband. “The only time I saw them was before Robert rebelled and I don’t remember seeing them. From what Arthur said, Princess Arianne held me as a baby once.”

“She’s your cousin. I don’t imagine you two will have a hard time getting along,” Robb remarked.

Rhaenys could feel his shoulders lifting up in a shrug and turned around, leaning into press her lips to his. Robb inhaled sharply and deepened the kiss, dropping one of his hands to her belly. She wasn’t showing at all but the idea of a child of their own had made him more joyful and more affectionate.

She deepened it and he groaned, cupping her chin gently.

“If I was one of your uncles, I would be overjoyed to see you,” Robb said, as they saw the banners of House Martell come into view. The towers of Sunspear followed as their ship maneuvered into the small port and they could both see a group of House Martell guards waiting on the dock.

Morgana and Aliandra all let out quiet roars, taking off from the ship and landing on the dock. Rhaenys grinned at the guard’s reactions to the dragons, seeing one visibly jump. There was a man, who was clearly not a guardsman but who had a spear in hand and…

“Oberyn,” Rhaenys whispered, walking over to the side of the ship as the House Manderly sailors finally dropped the anchor and lowered the plank. Nymeria and Grey Wind both let out a loud howl and followed the two Starks and one Targaryen down onto the dock. Their Stark guards and Rhaenys’ sworn shields followed, making for an impressive landing party.

 

* * *

 

 

Oberyn stared at the young woman who descended from the Stark ship. His guards had informed him an hour ago of the incoming ship from the North, the one that bore the House Stark banner but had had dragons too. Dragons and direwolves, as he watched the two animals trot down the dock together.

The young woman had the Martell look, with long, straight black hair and slightly dark skin, and… Oberyn took a step forward at her deep purple eyes. No Martell child had those eyes except for... He watched the woman, who looked to be ten and nine years old, stop a few feet in front of Oberyn, hesitantly looking him over.

The two dragons that had come with her flanked her and Oberyn inhaled sharply at the four tall men behind her. Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell and Ser Barristan. Her identity soon came to mind and he could feel his heart quicken at the thought that one of Elia’s children had survived and had apparently flourished.

“Rhaenys?”

The woman’s eyes widened, tears pooling, and nodded. “Uncle Oberyn.”

Oberyn grinned and ran right over, tugging her right into a hug. Rhaenys let out a surprised gasp but hugged him right back.

“We all thought you were dead,” Oberyn whispered, squeezing Rhaenys in a tight hug before pulling back and looking her over. Her Targaryen eyes and Martell hair and skin. “One of Elia’s babes. I…”

Rhaenys smiled, wiping some tears away. “Ser Jaime got me out of the keep and Lord Stark took me to Winterfell.”

Oberyn nodded, brushing some hair out of her face. She looked so like Elia… “Come. I will send for my brother. He will be overjoyed to see you alive! And who are these two?”

A young man, clearly a Stark, stepped forward, his eyes apprehensive.

“This is Robb Stark,” Rhaenys introduced, her hand finding Robb’s and tugging him forward. “He’s my husband. Arya Stark just came along to see Dorne.”

Oberyn eyed Robb Stark and the direwolf at his feet, just now seeing the Stark cloak wrapped around Rhaenys’ shoulders. Robb looked at him, his eyes wide. Oberyn looked over at Arya, the girl looking around with wide eyes. The direwolf had a grey coat and dark golden eyes, looking around at the new men and sniffing the air.

“Prince Oberyn,” Robb started.

“Lord Stark didn’t force you into this?” Oberyn asked.

“No! Of course not! They’re Starks!” Rhaenys exclaimed, her eyes narrowing. “The king did. It was a condition of letting Lord Stark take me to Winterfell. If he hadn’t agreed, I would have been a hostage in King’s Landing.”

Oberyn grimaced and gestured for them to follow him up to the palace.

“I fell in love with him, uncle,” Rhaenys retorted, frowning. One of the dragons let out a bellow and Oberyn watched as the red dragon took up into the sky, circling above them.

“What about the dragons?” Oberyn asked, as they walked back to the palace. “Arthur, it’s good to see you again!”

Ser Arthur grinned and slapped Oberyn on the back, giving Oberyn a slight hug. “It’s good to see you too.”

“The dragons… I hatched them seven months ago,” Rhaenys said, pointing at the red dragon. “I named her Aliandra, for my mother's house.”

Oberyn’s heart skipped a beat at that and listened as Rhaenys gave names for the other one.

“Morgana, the lilac one.”

“You are a true Dornish dragon,” Oberyn spoke, thinking of Elia and the last time he had seen her. “Your mother would be proud.”

Rhaenys grinned and then turned to whisper something to Robb.

 

* * *

 

 

Arya watched as Rhaenys and Robb followed Prince Oberyn into another room in the palace. Nymeria and Grey Wind were scouting the palace and had taken off to another end of the manse. The two dragons had stayed in front of the palace, picking a spot in the sun to rest.

“Would you like to play cyvasse?”

She turned around quickly, thinking of the sword that Jon had commissioned for her just before he had left for the Wall. Needle was in her trunk. But… She took in the boy that had just arrived in the chambers, taking in his straight, black hair that went down to his shoulders and skin similar to Prince Oberyn’s.

“Who are you?”

“Trystane Martell. Who are you?”

“Arya Stark. I came with your cousin, Rhaenys,” Arya said hesitantly. This was another Martell Prince but he looked to be her age, ten and two.

“I thought you were a boy,” Trystane said, grinning a little. “But I don’t care. I was going to play a game of cyvasse. Would you like to play too?”

“Sure. I don’t know how to play though. I don’t know where Nymeria went but she’ll find me.”

“Lady Nym?” Trystane said, looking Arya over before walking over to the desk, where the cyvasse board was. “She’s off with Obara and Tyene.”

“No, I meant… Who’s Lady Nym?”

Trystane raised an eyebrow. “She’s one of Oberyn’s daughters, the Sand Snakes. Who were you talking about?”

“Nymeria. My direwolf.”

“Oh, so that’s what they are. I thought they were regular wolves.”

Arya shook her head, her lips twitching up into a small grin. “No. They’re direwolves, from north of the Wall?”

Trystane’s eyes widened and as he was about to say something, they both heard twin howling. “Wow. And the dragons…”

“Rhaenys hatched them.”

 

* * *

 

“Uncle?”

“Arianne, come in. I’d like you to meet someone,” Oberyn spoke, gesturing for his niece to come into his solar.

Arianne eyed Oberyn before stepping into the chamber, her eyes widening as she saw her a young woman who looked very familiar. The woman had long, curly black hair and purple eyes, reminding Arianne of Rhaenys, the little girl that she had met several years ago. There were four guards at the door, two old men, and the other two middle aged. They did not look like Martell guardsmen.

“Uncle?” Arianne questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Rhaenys Targaryen Stark. Your cousin. She’s alive,” Oberyn said joyfully, smiling widely. “She escaped King’s Landing and has been living in the North. She… hatched dragons seven months ago.”

Arianne blinked, turned to stare at the young woman on the couch and the young man sitting beside her. “Rhaenys?”

Rhaenys stood up, her purple eyes widening a little. She tightened the Stark cloak around her shoulders and took a step towards her cousin. “Arianne?”

Arianne’s eyes widened and she was about to walk forwards, to embrace Rhaenys when a hissing sounded. A loud thump echoed throughout the room and a creature poked its’ head over the back of the couch. A scaly creature. One…

“Aliandra, down,” Rhaenys whispered, reaching over to stroke the dragon’s head. The dragon’s wings flapped, coming up over the back of the couch.

Arianne stared, turning to look at Oberyn.

“You really hatched dragons,” Arianne whispered, her black eyes lighting up in awe. “You really are my aunt’s daughter and the daughter of Prince Rhaegar. My cousin.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Obara, Nym, Tyene, this is our cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen Stark,” Arianne introduced, gesturing to each young woman in turn. They had just finished breaking their fast on their fifth morning in Dorne, in Sunspear. Uncle Oberyn had said that he had sent a raven to the Water Gardens, to Prince Doran. The ruling prince of Dorne, Rhaenys’ uncle, had moved there several years ago.                                                                                       

Rhaenys took in each of the Sand Snakes, noting the similar eyes. Each one had Oberyn’s dark eyes. Obara Sand was more big boned than any of them and had a spear in one arm and a shield in the other. Nymeria Sand had more beauty than Obara did but Tyene looked sweeter than either of the other two.

Nymeria Sand had daggers at her hip, the blades sheathed at her waist. Tyene… had no visible weapon, making Rhaenys raise an eyebrow.

“Did you really marry the young wolf?” Obara questioned, her eyes wide with interest as they were introduced. “They say he’s handsome and by the looks of him...”

“King Robert made her,” Nymeria said, with a glance to where Robb was sparring with Ser Arthur. Robb was fighting with Dark Sister, after asking Rhaenys if he could use the blade. Grey Wind was sitting at her feet, his yellow eyes on both Rhaenys and Robb. Ser Oswell, Gerold, and Barristan were standing discreetly behind Rhaenys. “Is he good in bed at least?”

Rhaenys snorted, feeling her cheeks redden a little. “I think so. I’m with child anyway. I probably would have married him anyway, regardless of what Robert said I had to do.”

“You love him?” Tyene asked, her sweet voice making Rhaenys a little suspicious. “Because I would poison him if you needed me to.”

“We’re good, cousin,” Rhaenys remarked, rolling her eyes. Tyene used poison then. It made sense, she supposed. Rhaenys had heard the rumors of Uncle Oberyn’s fight with Lord Edgar Yronwood, when Oberyn had been ten and six. “I love him.”

Aliandra appeared in the sky above them, growing bigger by the day. Morgana flew behind her sister dragon, roaring out their arrival. The smallfolk, farmers, vendors and everyone else of Sunspear had been startled by the dragons. Rhaenys’ own existence was now widely known throughout the city, courtesy of Princess Arianne showing her around.

“Why did you come to Dorne in the first place?” Nymeria questioned, looking at her with a pointed look. “Uncle Oberyn wouldn’t say it but we’ve been here for several years and hadn’t heard that you were alive.”

“Robert. He had Lord Stark keep my fate secret,” Rhaenys explained, flinching a little then sighing. “I refused to kneel to him when Robert came to Winterfell.”

Obara grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “If only we had an excuse to start war with Robert. He did not say anything about Princess Elia. I know our father wanted to do something.”

Rhaenys glanced over to Robb, dropping a hand to her belly. She wasn’t showing yet but… she would. “I have been thinking about taking the throne. I want to see what Prince Doran says.”

Obara, Nymeria and Tyene all blinked, staring at her. Arianne’s eyes widened.

“Dorne would fight for you,” Princess Arianne finally said, her eyes lit with excitement and confidence. “You’re Prince Rhaegar’s firstborn and by Dornish tradition, you would have taken the throne after him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Prince Doran arrived a week and a half later and by then, Rhaenys knew all the nooks and crannies of Sunspear. She started to show a little, making Robb’s eyes light up. They were sharing rooms and a bed and Robb always went to sleep with a hand on her stomach. Occasionally, he would wake her up in a joyful way, tracing his fingers over her belly and dipping down, playing with her breasts.

Rhaenys loved waking up that way and seeing Robb’s blue eyes widen with arousal.

Prince Trystane had made it a thing to play cyvasse with Arya each afternoon and Rhaenys had seen Arya beat him each time. Though she didn’t think Trystane truly minded. The two had just come back from a walk through the gardens of Sunspear, with Nymeria the direwolf at their feet, when Prince Doran arrived.

Rhaenys stood next to her uncle Oberyn, Robb, and Grey Wind at the gates of the palace. Her dragons were curled up in the sun around the courtyard, lazing about.

 

* * *

 

 

Doran stared at the young woman in front of him, at the dragons behind her. Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia. She looked a princess. When he had received his brother’s letter, he hadn’t known what to think. The idea that one of Elia’s children had survived had made his heart beat faster.

Her arm was in Robb Stark’s, the two providing a united front. Doran waited until Areo brought over his wheeled chair and sat down in it with his captain’s help.

“Rhaenys.”

His niece took a step towards him, her purple eyes reminding Doran of Prince Rhaegar.

“You look like your mother,” Doran whispered, as Rhaenys stepped in front of him.

“I heard that from Oberyn,” Rhaenys offered quietly.

“A true Dornish Dragon,” Doran said. “I hear you came with two purposes. Shall we talk in my solar?”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys stood in the center of Doran’s solar an hour later, Robb standing right next to her. She glanced at her husband for reassurance and he wrapped an arm around her, smiling.

“I have been planning revenge on the Lannisters for a long time,” Doran started. “To think you survived. You are my niece, Rhaenys.”

Rhaenys started a little, rocking back on her heels. Doran was peering up at her, his dark eyes curious.

“Robert never said anything about my mother,” Rhaenys said, closing her eyes briefly in grief. “Never told Lord Tywin that he was not in the right for ordering our deaths.”

“I had made a pact with Ser Willem Darry,” Doran spoke, taking a sip of a drink. “To have your uncle marry Princess Arianne. We would have supported him in taking the throne with a Dornish princess at his side. Your Grace.”

Rhaenys froze, watching as Doran dipped his head in a nod, bowing as much as he could. The whispy form of Princess Elia appeared right next to Doran, smiling down at her brother then nodding to her. Robb inhaled sharply as she urged a little of her magic into him, enabling him to see his good-mother.

Robb pulled apart, only to circle around in front of her and kneel. “Your Grace.”

Rhaenys sucked in a tight breath then nodded firmly. “Call your banners.”


	14. Chapter 14

“It seems I will need a Queensguard,” Rhaenys said, after a few minutes of silence.

Sers Gerold, Arthur, Oswell and Barristan all knelt at her feet, their heads bowed. “We are ready to serve, Your Grace.”

“We have been serving you all of your life,” Gerold spoke, his eyes soft.

Rhaenys shivered at their words, more out of the tradition of the words and intent than cold. “I will gladly accept then. Prince Doran, why don’t we wait a month or two before calling your banners, on second thought. I am not entirely sure what is going on in King’s Landing right now but mayhaps there will be an opportune time. With Robert, it’s always possible that there would be a better time.”

Her newly appointed Queensguard stood up, with Arthur grinning softly.

“I will get some white cloaks made,” Doran commented, nodding in agreement with Rhaenys. “I agree with you. We can let your dragons grow more too.”

Rhaenys nodded, turning to look at Robb. “We need to let Lord Stark know. He will want to ready the North, albeit discreetly.”

 

* * *

 

 

Robb stared at his wife, the newly pronounced Queen. “Your Grace.”

Rhaenys’ cheeks reddened at Robb’s heated voice. “King Consort.”

Robb blinked then dipped his head in a nod, his blue eyes soft with awe “You will make a good queen. I will go back north and help my father ready the bannermen.”

Rhaenys stilled and reached out for Robb, her husband doing the same and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Do you really have to go?”

Robb grinned, hearing the disappointment in her voice. “If not me, then who will go? Arya’s too enraptured with Dorne.”

“One of my guards can go,” Rhaenys remarked before slowly shaking her head. “But it should be you. Take the ship that we used. I’ll send a mirror with you, just like Jon’s so we can keep in contact.”

“Uncle…” Rhaenys trailed off, thinking of her aunt and uncle on her father’s side. “I need to send someone to get Viserys and Daenerys. They’ve been gone for far too long already. Viserys will marry Arianne when they come back and be Prince Consort of Dorne.”

“Oberyn will gladly go. I will order a ship ready,” Doran said, crossing his arms in thought. “Your Grace, have you heard of your aunt marrying a khal?”

“Yes, I have. I will give Oberyn one of my mirrors,” Rhaenys answered, dropping her arms to her sides. “That will allow me to talk with Viserys and Daenerys when Oberyn finds them. If I recall correctly, Oberyn spent some time in Essos.”

Doran looked at her in question, nodding in answer.

“I gave… Seven hells. Prince Doran, you may not know of this but my father eloped with Lady Lyanna Stark.”

Doran’s nose wrinkled in disbelief. “He married her? It wasn’t… kidnapping then.”

“No. My father made a mistake but he did marry her and only after getting her with child,” Rhaenys explained further, rubbing her own stomach. A child of her own was growing in her womb right now, a child of her and Robb’s. Robb stepped closer to her, placed his hand over her’s, an awestruck look on his face. She smiled and leaned into him.

“Lord Stark’s bastard.” Doran did not look amused at this piece of news. “Jon Snow. He’s not a bastard then.”

“No. He knows about his true father. I told him before we left for Dorne. He’s at Castle Black right now,” Rhaenys said, grimacing. Grey Wind whined from where he was curled up at their feet. “The reason why he is there is part of why we came to Dorne in the first place.”

“Prince Doran, the North will need help in the coming months or year,” Robb started. “A wight attacked Castle Black.”

“A wight? But that’s just legends,” Doran said, looking at Robb in confusion. He was frowning and his eyes were wide, with his hands on to his lap. “The Others haven’t been seen in thousands of years…”

“We killed one just a month ago,” Rhaenys replied, shrugging a little. “Or Aliandra did, with her fire. Jon stayed to keep an eye on the situation there.”

Doran stared at them both then dipped his head in a nod. “Mother of Dragons and the Young Wolf. I find it hard to believe but you do seem serious. What of allies for the coming fight? I believe the Tyrells will fight for you and the Velaryons will fight for a Targaryen.”

Rhaenys nodded, peering over at Gerold, her new lord commander. “The Hightowers will fight for us, won’t they?”

“They will. Lord Tyrell will call his banners,” Gerold said, dropping his hand to the hilt of his blade. “You will have the Redwyne fleet at your call as well.”

“To lay siege to King’s Landing and to Casterly Rock...” Rhaenys trailed off, hearing Aliandra let out a roar outside the palace of Sunspear. Morgana followed suit, the two roars causing every bird around to squawk and startle around. “It will likely come to that. The Velaryons have a fleet also, do they not?”

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Arya walked alongside Prince Trystane as they entered the great hall of the palace. The palace of House Martell in Sunspear was so unlike Winterfell that she hadn’t yet missed home. There was so much to see and so much to do. Nymeria was also entranced with the land, running around with Grey Wind as they explored Sunspear.

It had been a week since they had docked in Sunspear and Arya never wanted to leave, peeking at the boy next to her. Trystane wasn’t like the princes that Sansa spoke of or wished for. Trystane enjoyed playing cyvasse with her and wasn’t scared of Nymeria. He had also never said a word about Arya’s new sword, Needle, which was tucked into her belt. Dorne was different, he had said. Women could fight, just like the queen that Arya had named her direwolf after.

“Be careful.”

Arya turned to look at the doors to the palace on their right, seeing Rhaenys and Robb walk out. Rhaenys’ Queensguard walked right behind her, the four men who were the best knights in Westeros. Grey Wind padded alongside Robb and Arya watched as Rhaenys reached down to stroke the wolf’s ears.

“Say hi to father and Bran,” Arya called, running over to hug her brother. Robb smiled and pulled back after a minute, ruffling her hair.

“I will,” Robb said, as they walked over to the port. “Prince Trystane?”

“Your Grace?”

Arya grinned as Robb froze briefly before sighing.

“Take care of my sister,” Robb spoke, his lips twitching up into a teasing grin.

“She can take care of herself,” Trystane replied, grinning widely. “Especially at cyvasse.”

“Do you want a dragon with you?” Rhaenys asked, as they came to the ship that they had arrived in. The sun shone down on them and with Rhaenys’ words, so came the dragons. They had been dozing in the courtyard at the palace and Aliandra flew up and over them first, circling before landing next to the Queen. “I can ask one of them to go with you.”

“I’ll be fine. I have Grey Wind,” Robb replied, looking up at the sailors on the ship. “House Manderly has never done wrong to us Starks.”

“It’s not House Manderly that I don’t trust,” Rhaenys retorted, crossing her arms.

Arya exchanged glances with Trystane, gesturing to the market behind them. Trystane grinned and the both of them ran off, Nymeria hurriedly loping behind them.

Rhaenys glanced to where her good-sister had fled and laughed quietly. “Arya’s never going to have a heart for politics, is she?”

Robb laughed too and shook his head. “No. She is only a child still.”

“Mayhaps we can arrange a betrothal for them,” Rhaenys remarked then stared back at the ship, her hand dropping down to her stomach. She was three months and a week into her pregnancy and the morning sickness that had started last month had yet to abate. “I want you with me when this babe comes out.”

“As Your Grace commands,” Robb said, grinning widely, his smile slowly turning into a serious frown. “You talk of an opportune moment to take the throne. Do you have any idea when that will be?”

Rhaenys shook her head, thinking on what they had heard from King’s Landing recently. Stannis was still the Hand of the King and they hadn’t heard anything other than that. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. If Lord Stark felt that Jon Arryn’s death was suspicious then there must have been a reason.”

“He must think someone killed Lord Arryn,” Robb said, lowering a hand to lay on top of Rhaenys, on her stomach. “Why would someone kill Lord Arryn?”

“Jon Arryn dies. Bran falls from the tower. Or was pushed…” Rhaenys trailed off, her eyes narrowing. “He must have seen something. Stop in Gulltown on your way back. See if Lady Catelyn has seen something. Perhaps Lady Arryn knows something too. She fled King’s Landing after her husband died.”

Robb looked at her, his eyes narrowed too. “I will.”  

Rhaenys sighed wearily, grinned and leaned in, meeting Robb halfway. Their mouths met and Robb groaned, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

“Wolf boy, I’ll miss you.”

“Dragon girl. I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaenys watched as the ship that carried Robb and Grey Wind slipped away from the dock and out to harbor. She watched as it until it disappeared on the horizon then turned, looking at her four Queensguard. They in turn watched her, their eyes on her.

“When is Prince Oberyn due to leave for Essos?” Rhaenys finally asked, already missing Robb and Grey Wind both.

“He is leaving in an hour,” Arthur replied, pointing over to the other prominent ship in Sunspear. The Dornish ship was getting ready to leave, its’ sailors packing things up onto the ship. Oberyn himself was pacing the dock, occasionally glancing over to them. There was a younger man watching Oberyn with dark, intent eyes. Rhaenys wondered if they were lovers or something else. “You plan on your uncle Viserys marrying Arianne.”

“Yes. My grandmother crowned him king, didn’t she?”

Ser Barristan nodded. “Rhaella tried to shield both Viserys and Daenerys from their father.”

“Are you saying that Viserys might not like being just Prince Consort of Dorne?”

Arthur shrugged. “He might not. Rhaella could not be everywhere at once. We were remiss in not protecting her from Aerys.”

Rhaenys nodded, began to walk over to where Prince Oberyn was. “Hopefully, he won’t be trouble though I suspect that Uncle Oberyn would be more than capable of handling it.”

“He is not called the Red Viper for nothing,” Oswell remarked.

They were just near enough to Oberyn to start talking when Rhaenys heard her mirror ring. It chimed through her clothing and she pulled it out, saying the word to open the proper channel.

Jon’s face appeared, his Stark grey eyes wide. “I had not thought this would work.”

“Jon. I made that,” Rhaenys retorted, glaring at her brother.

Jon snorted. “Aye, you did. Any news from Dorne?”

“I am taking the throne,” Rhaenys replied, walking over to a nearby tree off the docks and leaning against it. “Prince Doran, my uncle, is going to support my bid.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Your Grace.”

“Robb is on his way back North to ready Lord Stark and the bannermen. Prince Oberyn is on the way to Essos, to retrieve our aunt and uncle.”

“I had forgotten. We have more family than just us,” Jon said, his eyes narrowed in thought. “I presume you have plans then?”

“Not quite. Prince Doran and I plan on waiting until the right moment to officially declare me Queen. It will give time for the dragons to grow and time enough to discreetly ready the North. What of you and the Wall?”

“Lord Commander Mormont is planning a Ranging north of the Wall,” Jon said, turning the mirror so that she could see the courtyard of Castle Black. There were horses and men of the Night’s Watch packing and readying for a journey. “He wants me to go with him.”

“And you said yes,” Rhaenys finished, raising an eyebrow.

“I might be able to find Uncle Benjen,” Jon commented, turning the mirror back to him. “Sam’s going as well.”

“Alright. I’m going to send a knight to you,” Rhaenys said, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of something happening to her brother. “No arguments. You’re my brother.”

Jon blinked but nodded. “Very well. I don’t think the Lord Commander would wait that long though.”

“Hold on.”

Rhaenys turned to look at her Queensguard. “Ser Oswell, would you mind? Jon’s going beyond the Wall.”

“I would not mind at all. We serve the royal family,” Oswell answered, dipping his head in a nod. “I believe Prince Doran has the white cloaks ready. Let me go pack my things.”

“I’ll take you.”

Oswell nodded and then headed to the barracks, where they had taken quarters. The barracks was a mile from the docks, further near the palace.

Rhaenys turned back to Jon, looking over her brother. “We’ll be right there in a few minutes.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Few minutes?”

“My magic. I can move great distances,” Rhaenys explained. “See you soon.”

Jon nodded and then closed the connection.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a few tweaks to the story. I changed the colors and names of two of them and I had one of them claim Jon as their rider. It might make sense to go back and read the story, starting with at least Chapter 12.

Jon looked around the courtyard of Castle Black, seeing Sam help with Grenn and Pyp as they packed supplies and saddled horses. Lyandra was curled up in one corner of the courtyard, her silver eyes watching the men of the Night’s Watch. Ghost was sitting on his haunches next to her, quite content with sitting next to a dragon.

A direwolf and a dragon sitting next to each other. The Stark half and the Targaryen half. Jon sighed, feeling the slight humming emotion of Lyandra in his mind. He was able to feel her eagerness to go out north, to go out and explore. Ghost was also a presence in his mind, quiet and still, almost not there.

He still wasn’t settled from learning that he was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

“Jon? What news from Rhaenys?”

He turned to look at Maester Aemon, who had come down to the yard to hear what Lord Mormont had to say about the Ranging. Aemon had turned his body to more accurately listen to the noises from the dragon, awe in his voice.

“My sister…” Jon trailed off as he heard a crack in the air.

“Your sister what?”

Jon turned around, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Rhaenys Targaryen Stark and Ser Oswell Whent stood right next to him, no worse for wear or travel. Ser Oswell Whent wore a white cloak over his armor, his hand on his blade. He wore a pack and a bedroll on his shoulders, ready for travel.

“How…” Jon asked, his eyes still wide and his body stilling in surprise. “I did not know you could do that.”

“It only works if I’ve been to a location before,” Rhaenys explained, shrugging. She looked more regal now, more queenly. Her hair was back in a braid and her stomach was bigger than it had been when he had last seen her.

Lyandra bolted upright, roared out a greeting. Rhaenys grinned, looking around at the men and horses. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Uncle Benjen is still out there,” Jon said, seeing Aemon walk over and smile. Ser Oswell was a little pale as he walked over to flank the three of them. “And Lord Mormont says the wildlings are organizing.”

Rhaenys blinked. “The wildlings? If white walkers are coming back, we should do something with the wildlings.”

“What do you mean?”

Jon grimaced, seeing Ser Alliser Thorne walk up to them. “Nothing, ser.”

“Wildlings don’t deserve our help,” Alliser muttered, as he passed by them on the way to the barracks.

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow. “They’re of the realm of men too. The Night’s Watch guards the realms of men. Who better to help the wildlings than the Night’s Watch?”

“Not a lot of men think that way, Rhaenys,” Jon spoke wearily, seeing her eyes narrow.

“They should but I suppose their bitterness supersedes their judgement. I should get back to Dorne but be careful? I do not want to have another dead brother.”

Jon flinched, shaking his head. “I will be careful. Besides, I’m better at sword fighting than Robb is.”

“We don’t know what’s out there,” Rhaenys remarked quietly. “And I’ll be busy waiting for the right time to take my throne.”

“Is Robb still in Dorne with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon hesitated and Rhaenys glared at him. Oswell snorted behind them, coughing behind a hand when she turned to look at him.

“You be safe,” Jon said, glancing down at her stomach then back to her eyes.

“And keep Lyandra safe too. I put a warding on her when I left last time, just in case but...”

“She’ll probably keep me safe,” Jon assured her, looking at his sister. “Your Grace.”

Rhaenys’ lips twitched up into a small grin and then she disappeared with another crack.

“I never want to do that again,” Ser Oswell muttered, his face still pale.

Jon let out a quiet laugh. “She’ll have to explain how she can do that sometime.”

“I’m important enough to have a knight of the queensguard with me.”

“You are the soon to be Queen’s brother. Of course you are important enough,” Oswell spoke, glancing out over the brothers of the Night’s Watch. “Looks like this will be a large ranging.”

“Sam says it will be the largest in a hundred years,” Jon explained.

  


* * *

 

 

Rhaenys arrived back in Sunspear, just as her uncle was leaving. Oberyn’s ship slowly moved out from the docks and she waved, seeing Oberyn and Ser Daemon Sand on the bow of the ship.

The other three knights of her queensguard, Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold, were waiting under a tree for her.

“Jon’s going on a ranging north of the wall,” Rhaenys said, at their questioning expressions. “I left Ser Oswell with him and he has Lyandra too.”

“He’ll be fine,” Gerold offered, as she began to walk back to the palace. “Oswell is very good with a blade.”

“I just don’t know what they’re going to see north of the wall. A wight attacked Castle Black. Does that mean there are white walkers? Tyrion Lannister said that most of the southern lords think the white walkers are superstitions.”

“Most do. I don’t know if anyone really listens to any of the black brothers anymore. You saw the different men who serve at Castle Black.”

Rhaenys dipped her head in a nod, seeing Aliandra and Morgana fly above them. “They were criminals, rapists and murderers. Samwell, of House Tarly, said that there were less than 600 at Castle Black.”

“It’s fallen out of regard,” Arthur remarked, his new white cloak fluttering in the breeze.

  


* * *

 

 

Rhaenys woke up the next morning, hurrying to the pot that one of the Martell servants had placed by her bed. Her stomach was roiling in place, almost like she was back on the sea, and threw up. She had thought her morning sickness was over by now, given that it had been three and a half months since her and Robb’s wedding. But she had never been pregnant before, not even in her first life so she didn’t really know what to expect.

“Cousin? Are you okay?”

Rhaenys grumbled under her breath, holding her breath, and puked again. She heard Arianne open the door and walk up to her, stopping at the foot of the bed.

She finally finished throwing up anything in her stomach and looked up at her cousin, the heir to Dorne. “I’m… okay, Arianne.”

“Morning sickness. I remember my mother having it when she was carrying Trystane,” Arianne said, her dark eyes narrowed in worry.

“You don’t have to be here,” Rhaenys croaked out, looking out of the window across from her bed. “Where are the Sand Snakes?”

“Lady Nym’s training Arya on how to use a dagger,” Arianne answered, grinning slightly. “Your husband’s sister knows how to use a sword already.”

“I taught her. Lady Catelyn wasn’t going to allow it but since I was already learning…”

Arianne smiled widely, her eyes intent. “I wonder what your uncle is like.”

“Uncle? You know Oberyn already.”

“I meant Viserys, your Grace.”

“Oh. I don’t know about him. I was only three when my grandfather sent him and grandmother to Dragonstone. They’ve lived a hard life though, that much I know.”

Arianne nodded, her eyes narrowing in thought.

 

* * *

 

 

A week later, a raven came for her, bearing the seal of House Stark. Maester Myles of Sunspear delivered the letter to her, dipping his head in a slight bow before leaving.

“Arya! It’s from your father!” Rhaenys called out, as she watched Lady Nym train her good-sister. Arya was improving with a dagger, having taken lessons from her already. She was just having to adjust to a smaller blade, which took some practice. Arianne, Trystane and Obara were watching too and joined Arya in walking over to her under the shade.

Sers Arthur, Barristan, and Gerold stood behind her, ever her watchful knights. Her two dragons, Aliandra and Morgana were bathing in the sun in the corner of the practice field, their big bodies taking up a quarter of it. They were growing and would probably not stop unless she chained them up, which she did not plan on doing.

“I probably should have given him a mirror before we left,” Rhaenys remarked before sliding the letter open. Lady Nym followed Arya and Nymeria the direwolf over before raising an expectant eyebrow. Rhaenys read through the letter, dropping one hand to her own growing stomach, rubbing a thumb over her skin. Her eyes widened as she read over Lord Stark’s letter, her mouth opening and closing in disbelief. “It looks like someone tried to kill Bran.”

Arya’s eyes widened and Nymeria growled low in her throat.

“Did Lord Stark catch whoever did it?” Obara questioned, her dark eyes narrowing and her fingers tightening around her spear.

“Mayhaps it was the Lannisters,” Arianne said, tilting her head and thinking. “You did think that his fall was not his own doing.”

“Yes, but there were no Lannisters in Winterfell when we left,” Arya retorted. “The Imp had left two weeks ago. Is Bran okay?”

“He’s fine. Summer killed the assassin,” Rhaenys answered, glancing down at Nymeria. Arya’s wolf had grown too and Grey Wind too though she did miss him and Robb. She hoped their journey up to the Vale was okay. Maybe she should have sent one of her queensguard with him. “Though Lord Stark does say he would have liked to question the assassin.”

Obara grinned, showing more of a toothy smile than normal. “I would have liked to do that.”

“What else does Lord Stark say?” Trystane asked, glancing to Arya worriedly.

“He says that the assassin used a Valyrian steel dagger,” Rhaenys said, looking back to Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold. Ser Barristan’s eyes narrowed but he shook his head.

“Did Luwin have anything to say about that?” Arthur questioned. “The maester might know of a possible list of people who have Valyrian steel weapons.”

“No. Lord Stark says he knows nothing.”


End file.
